


Real Enough

by Artemis_sagitta_graphia



Series: Real Enough [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Additional tags may B added, And a few surprises, Betrayals, Blood doesn't make you family, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Mentions of Sex, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Platonic Relationships, Plot and Fluff, Tragedy, but it's few and far between, headcannon, just messed up, lots and lots of cussing, more fluff than plot, slightly AU, this story is NOT based on smut or sex so if you want those things you're in the wrong place, this story is about love & relationships - human behavior & interaction, we're all a little crazy :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 94,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_sagitta_graphia/pseuds/Artemis_sagitta_graphia
Summary: Danse traverses the Commonwealth with the vault dweller turned Brotherhood soldier (and her infuriating and all too unforgettable companion).Arthur is faced with decisions that affect not only the Brotherhood's mission, but its very future and future of his own happiness.Enemies and allies will face choices they've never had to make before. Friendships will be tested, relationships put to the test. Brothers will betray brothers and family will need to make the greatest sacrifice of all.**story starts off a little slow but everything picks up after a few chapters**





	1. In It Together

 

 

"I am not eating... _that_." The petite blonde woman poked a finger towards the naked, limp form near her feet.

Olivia didn't bother looking up from the dead molerat in front of her as she sliced strips of meat from its carcass. She knew that if she did, she would find Lily's nose scrunched up and those blonde-fringed, blue eyes gaping at her in profound disapproval.

"I know it tastes like ass," she uttered with forced pity, "but if you're hungry then this is what's on the menu. Take it or leave it."

She knew her voice was overly harsh and didn't hold much in the way of compassion. She didn't have the luxury of knowing any other taste except whatever mutated beasts the wasteland had seen fit to provide over the past two hundred years.

Not that she would call Lily a pampered princess, but the woman still hadn't quite stepped out of her pre-war mindset and come to terms with the reality that was 2287. The Capital Grille restaurant and the Four Seasons hotel had been leveled in the blast that had decimated the land, killing most of the beings - human and animal - and poisoning the rest with radiation that still seeped from the ruined earth. There would be no more gourmet meals or fancy, pillow-top beds for the vault dweller.

If Lily couldn't get a grip on her new reality and accept the fact that people now did whatever was necessary to survive, then Olivia didn't have much hope that the pre-war relic would last much longer in this shit life. At least, not alone.

"Maybe Danse will find us something better?"

The name rolling off Lily's lips pushed a shudder down Olivia's spine and she willed her eyes to focus on the task at hand, ignoring how her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest.

"I doubt he's out there doing anything more than seething over the fact that we just saved half a dozen synths from extermination," she muttered.

The two women had met off the road leading from Sanctuary to Concord, after Lily had somehow escaped from her cryopod in Vault 111. Olivia hadn't wanted anything to do with her when she noted the blue vault suit, the nervous twitch of Lily's eyes and the wringing of skittish hands. The woman hadn't even been carrying a weapon.

Olivia knew the vault dweller would be dead within 24 hours, and she'd turned away, heading back to the settlement where she'd been living for the past few months.

Grumbling to herself that she didn't need to play babysitter to a damn greenhorn wastelander, Olivia had cursed out loud when she heard the surprised shrieks of terror and the humming of wings from behind her. Leaving unarmed innocents vulnerable and unprotected wasn't something that sat well in her gut, so she'd turned back to aid the blue-eyed blonde, fending off a couple of stingwings, and the two ladies hadn't parted for longer than a few hours since.

Olivia wasn't sure whether going back for Lily that day had been the start of something potentially incredible, or the worst choice of her life, because it was this act that had led them all over the damn Commonwealth after saving a group in Concord from Raiders, which ended up taking them south toward Diamond City and passing through Cambridge, thereby aiding a detachment of Brotherhood soldiers at the police station there.

Danse had eyed them with suspicion, treated them with cold dissection after they assisted his team in dispatching a horde of ferals. Lily had been fascinated by him the instant he'd spoken, as evident by her eager acceptance of his proposal of further aid.

Olivia on the other hand...

It was going to take more than a deep, gravelly voice that sent splinters of electric down her spine, and a set of dark eyes that seared her inside out to get her to team up with the likes of the Brotherhood of Steel.

Or at least, that's what she'd told herself. Damned if she hadn't caved the second he flipped that stupid power armor helmet in the air as if it were a rusted subway token used to call winners or losers. It had been sexy as hell.

The trip to ArcJet Systems, an offer to join the Brotherhood, and a journey to Diamond City all seemed so long ago. Yet it hadn't been more than six weeks past. Olivia provided Lily protection, trying to teach her how to survive in the wastes, how to navigate the new world that encroached on the woman's soft nature. In return, Lily offered easy companionship, and showed her that being less than self-serving had its advantages.

They wandered from settlement to settlement, building homes here and there, setting up defenses and doing odd jobs. Lily had accepted the membership to the Brotherhood after she and Olivia had taken out Conrad Kellogg. Since then - going on three weeks now - Danse had been an addition to their team.

It wasn't all bad. True, the man held views that she could barely tolerate, let alone agree with, but he was one hell of a fighter. His instincts and combat prowess were praiseworthy, his loyalty to his people respectable. But Paladin Danse, commander of Recon Squad Gladius and sponsor of Knight Lily Ribisi - General of the Commonwealth Minutemen - was not an open-minded man. He was rigid, not only in his beliefs, but in his demeanor. He could be cold and arrogant, rude and insensitive.

Olivia wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between the eyes of a super mutant if it attacked her, slice the throat of a feral ghoul if she came upon one, or end a Raider without mercy, but hunting down human beings that could still think for themselves was sadistic and barbarous. Slaughtering innocent beings that hadn't asked to be created, ones that felt and dreamed and ran for their lives in fear... It was monstrous. Humans were humans, no matter how they were made. Born from a living being, or created in a lab, turned ghoul by the atrocities of society, or mutated into unnatural creatures, they didn't deserve to be exterminated simply because of what they were.

Olivia wasn't sure what irritated her most; knowing that her interest in Danse went far beyond just physical appreciation, or the fact that the attraction didn't seem to be reciprocated.

Danse seemed oblivious to every reaction her body had to him. Or, if he did notice, he didn't seem to care. The notion should have been a relief, but it was far from it. She hated the butterflies that fluttered to life in her chest whenever he was nearby; the sizzling nerves that crawled through her every time she heard his rumbling voice; the needy ache that filled her, heat pooling at her core whenever their eyes met.

The willpower it took to keep herself steady on her feet, and reign in the desire to throw herself at him and beg him to kiss her, had worn her to exhaustion. She knew that the less time she spent around him, the better off she would be, and Olivia prayed that he would tire of tagging along with Ribisi and go back to his damned Prydwen and leave her in peace, because she sure as hell couldn't leave.

"You really think he's angry with me?" Lily worried at her bottom lip.

Olivia's jaw clenched and she closed her eyes against the jealousy that coursed through her at her companion's obvious concern over what Danse thought about her and the choices she'd made.

Lily's interest in the Paladin didn't really come as a shock. What woman wouldn't be attracted to the man?

He was the embodiment of masculinity. Deep chested, with hard planes and sculpted angles, powerful thighs, and narrow hips. The classic example of tall, dark and handsome - considering his thick, dark hair, walnut-colored eyes, and a six-foot-plus-some-inches tall frame, with a husky, baritone voice.

He was THE perfect male specimen.

No woman in her right mind could ignore the pull of attraction. She knew it, but she still hated the bitterness that flooded through her anyway, at the thought of Lily and Danse together.

Not that he'd shown any interest in his subordinate. In fact, his only concern for her seemed to be keeping her alive for the sake of the Brotherhood and their mission against the Institute.

Olivia wasn't sure whether she was relieved by the outward appearance of personal indifference, or if she ought to be pissed off that he cared more for his damn faction than he did the individual that was risking her life trying to single-handedly infiltrate the fucking Institute.

"You shouldn't care about his opinion," she told Lily as she flipped a molerat steak over in the shallow pan they had scrounged from the broken house they were using. It was nearly cooked, and the scent of charring meat wafted around the two-walled room. "If he's mad, screw him. The Brotherhood's views are prejudiced and skewed, anyway. You'd be better off without him around."

Was she saying that for Lily's benefit, or her own?

"Please don't start that, Ollie."

"Hey, I just call it like I see it," and she flipped another steak as she shrugged, ignoring the sigh that passed Lily's pouting lips.

 

 

* * *

 

Lily wasn't naive. Nor was she unaware that her friend - because she truly did think of Olivia as more than just a companion - was just as enthralled by her commanding officer as she was. Possibly more so.

The thought had prickled at her, made her watch their encounters more closely, observing how the two interacted. Olivia's reactions didn't surprise her, nor were they masked with any deftness. But that wasn't what bothered her the most.

It hadn't taken long to notice the way the Paladin tried to avoid Olivia, putting himself on watch more often than not, refusing to meet her gaze when she and Lily discussed anything personal, keeping Lily between them during their travels. It would be easy to chalk it up to a personality clash, or even a rivalry of beliefs, but...

Lily noted the way his eyes would skim over Olivia's form when he thought no one was paying attention, the way he tensed whenever their gazes met.

There was no way she could pretend that Danse found the brunette revolting, despite the snide remarks they continued to toss at one another. Lily didn't know the soldier in any depth, yet... But, men were men, and she knew them well. Or at least she should, considering she'd grown up with four brothers, two uncles, her father, and then married one of the most masculine men she'd ever met. Lily was practically an expert on male conduct.

And Danse? Danse reminded her very much of her late husband, which may have been partially the reason for her instant attraction to him. The age-old adage about women liking a man in uniform wasn't untrue, either. Those military men had that certain something that could start that itch that yearned to be scratched.

Anyway, it mattered little, since his main concern seemed to be all about the Brotherhood of Steel.

She didn't hold that against him. He was a soldier, and a damned good one. He was dedicated to the job, loyal to his faction, his team and his elder. He was determined to whip Lily into shape, despite her lack of height, muscles, or vigor.

Why he chose her, she still didn't know, but she had a niggling feeling that it had more to do with Olivia than anything else. It was just plain luck - for them both - that Lily shared the Brotherhood's goal of finding the Institute. If she hadn't, she was pretty certain the Paladin would be back at his base in Cambridge with his team, instead of sitting outside on the outskirts of their little camp.

If it weren't for Olivia, Lily wouldn't even be breathing.

True, she'd made it out of Vault 111 by herself, but not without suffering some pretty bad injuries from some giant, mutated roaches. It had left her fairly weak and when she'd run into a pair of oversized, mosquito-looking things...

Lily hadn't bothered picking up either of the guns she'd come across inside the vault. She'd never used one before, and it never crossed her mind that she would need a weapon. She just wanted to go home, find Shaun, and be safe. But the world outside the vault wasn't the same as when she'd left it. The bombs had seen to that. She didn't know the extent of the dangers, or how to survive them. And that's why Olivia was her savior.

Olivia had taken out those flying creatures, saved her life in Concord, and helped her find people who could aid her in finding her son. If it hadn't been for Olivia taking out the majority of the feral beasts attacking Danse's compound, or eliminating those metal men in ArcJet, Paladin Danse likely wouldn't have offered the aid of his faction.

Yes, Lily's hacking skills had come in handy at those terminals inside ArcJet and Fort Hagan, but she was well aware that if it weren't for Olivia, it was likely they wouldn't have made it out of either place in one piece.

"Food's ready."

Olivia held up a slab of molerat with the tip of her combat knife and tossed her a smile that said suck it up or starve, so Lily held out her dented metal plate and did her best not to wretch at the thought of eating mutated rodent.

"Gee, thanks," she returned with a crooked, insincere smile.

Olivia turned away in Danse's direction and let out that sheer whistle she always used to grab his attention when they were too far apart to speak. Lily saw his head immediately swivel in their direction and Olivia held up a plate and waved it smoothly, back and forth. He hesitated a few moments before picking his way slowly across the barren ground.

Olivia left the plate on a crate next to a stained, broken back chair and moved further away from the fire with another. She didn't look over when Danse stepped up and retrieved the plate, as she'd shifted sidewise on a fallen log and kicked her feet up to stretch out her legs.

Lily bit into her food reluctantly, and forced herself to chew it and swallow. One bite at a time, pretending it was a grade A sirloin smothered in sautéed mushrooms and melted swiss cheese. Her imagination was strong, but not strong enough to hide the ashy aftertaste of the leathery meat.

Just another reason to wish that the life support system of the damn cryopod she'd been tricked into entering had failed her when it had failed all the others. This new land, with its monsters, harshness, and hollow people held no appeal. It made her want to crawl into a hole, curl into a ball and fade away into nothingness. But she couldn't. She had to find her son. It's what Nate would do, and Nate was always right.

Lily let her fork rest on the plate as she looked over at her commanding officer. He always had one eye on their surroundings, and now was no different as she watched him take a bite of molerat without flinching, his dark eyes moving over the landscape in a steady sweep. The subject she was about to broach was not going to go over well, and she was apprehensive about bringing it up. She knew he wouldn't be thrilled.

"Paladin Danse?"

Those dark eyes skipped to her. "Yes?"

"Sir, there's...something I need to do that you're not going to like."

 _Uh oh._ Those thick brows furrowed at her as his eyes narrowed.

"Go on."

"Well..." Lily glanced over at Olivia, who was ignoring them as she polished off her dinner. She wasn't going to like this, either. "The device we found on Kellogg needs to be examined, and Detective Valentine suggested I take it to a doctor in Goodneighbor."

Yup, he was pissed. His jaw clenched as she mentioned the town run by a ghoul mayor, and he let out a hard breath through his nose and stabbed his fork into the small bit of meat that remained on his plate.

"Why didn't you mention this when we were on the Prydwen?"

Lily didn't want to tell him that Olivia had talked her out of it, saying that the Brotherhood would just take it over and use it for their own purposes, likely shutting Lily out and preventing her from gaining any information she could use to find the Institute. But she apparently didn't have to say that out loud. Danse seemed to read her mind, because his head turned toward Olivia. The anger Lily saw on his face rushed her into defense mode.

"Sir, I didn't want to bring it up in case it turned out to be nothing," she sputtered.

His dark eyes didn't waver though, and Olivia was suddenly glaring right back at him.

"Bullshit." It was one of the few times she'd heard the man cuss, which only served to prove how pissed off he truly was. Now he turned that formidable gaze on her, and Lily flinched. "Every time the Brotherhood could offer you aid, you let that woman talk you out of it."

"That's not true," Lily shook her head. "She didn't talk me out of joining you, or try to prevent me from running a few of your missions."

Danse grunted and he shook his head.

"I'm sure she had her own agenda for that."

 _Not good. Not good - not good - not good at all_. Why did he have to provoke Olivia like that?

Olivia twisted from her relaxed position to face him, plunking her boots so hard onto the solid earth that a plume of dust lifted into the air.

"I have an agenda?" she hissed from across the fire. "And you don't? Your precious elder made it abundantly clear that his only concerns in the Commonwealth are destroying the Institute and collecting tech to increase his power. He doesn't give a damn about Lily or the people of the wasteland!"

Aaaaand here we go. Both her companions were on their feet now, tempers sizzling as they faced off, dinner plates forgotten.

"You know nothing about Elder Maxson or what his concerns are. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself and let Ribisi make up her own mind about what she should and shouldn't do."

The growl in his voice was not helping to deter Olivia's rising fury. In fact, it made her bristle even more.

"Right. Like I'm just gonna sit back and let you maneuver her into doing all the dirty work for you, so you use her and leave her high and dry after you get what you want." She shook her dark head. "Nah uh. Not happening."

"That's ludicrous, and your bias against the Brotherhood is only serving to limit the aid we can give her. You're standing in her way of taking down the Institute once and for all."

"You mean take it down for the Brotherhood, because for all would include the people of the Commonwealth that your elder didn't hesitate to encroach upon."

Lily could see that Danse was losing his self control. He was passionate about the Brotherhood and their missions, loyal to his elder and the man's goals. He didn't appreciate anyone degrading either of them, and Olivia in particular had a way of getting under his skin. Her steady onslaughts of giving him grief where his faction and his superior were concerned had been eating at him. It was as if she enjoyed pissing him off and watching Danse fight to keep his composure.

Danse was a patient man, wholeheartedly devoted to the Brotherhood and it's elder. He believed in their goals with every fiber of his being, and trusted without question that his elder was leading them on the right path. But his patience with Olivia might not last much longer. Not if she kept up with her constant badmouthing and disrespect of Danse's organization. Lily was afraid of what he might do.

Olivia was tough, Lily knew that. But she would hardly be a match against Danse, if he chose to attack her. Would he? So far, Danse's professionalism and code of ethics had held him in check, but that might not be the case, if Olivia continued to badger him.

And what of Lily? Would Danse discharge her from the Brotherhood because of her companion's behavior?

She might not share all of his beliefs about these strange beings that littered the wasteland now, but Lily knew he was right about one thing. The Brotherhood of Steel was likely her best chance at finding her son.

"Enough!" Lily threw up her hands and yelled so loud that both her companions gaped at her in surprise - she generally never raised her voice above an easy murmur - and she scowled at Danse first.

"I'm not going to dismiss Ollie, now or in the near future, nor will I disregard her advice or her opinions. She's kept my head above water for nearly two months with nothing more than my thanks in return, and she's saved my life on countless occasions. Without her, neither of us will be getting into the Institute!"

Her gaze swiveled to meet Olivia's green eyes. "Nor will I be quitting the Brotherhood of Steel, so you better get used to the idea of Paladin Danse being a constant part of this quest, because I need him."

Danse was standing silent, his jaw flexing and loosening repeatedly as he regarded Lily's words. Olivia's almond eyes were filled with rage, but she said nothing in argument. Moments passed in tense silence before Ollie leaned down and grabbed her rifle.

"Fine." She didn't look back at either of them. "I'll take first watch," and she stalked out of camp into the fading light.

Lily tucked herself into her sleeping bag a couple hours later but slept fitfully, waking in the early morning hours, fully aware that Olivia had not come back into camp to be relieved from her watch, nor had Danse gone out to relieve her as he usually did. They were both too bullheaded to relent, and Lily was powerless to do anything about it.

  


	2. Pretend You Don't See

 

 

He was far enough outside the camp boundary that he couldn't hear what his female companions were talking about, but close enough that he could see Knight Ribisi's petite form sitting near the fire where that.... _civilian_....was cleaning up after breakfast.

He usually preferred the quiet to go over things in his head, but today was not one of those times, as he recalled the confrontation from the previous night.

Grimaldi was by far the most exasperating, opinionated, and stubborn woman he'd ever met.

He wasn't sure how much more of her taunts and insults he could handle. His patience was wearing quite thin. If she wasn't belittling his association with the Brotherhood of Steel, she was sneering at his beliefs or scoffing over his choice of wearing power armor. It seemed to him that she spent every waking moment looking for something new to ridicule him about, and she'd hopped right on that cart during their evening meal, throwing accusations and slandering his elder.

Frankly, he was sick of it.

If it weren't for the fact that his newest recruit was the general of the local militia and that he had - maybe foolishly - requested to be her sponsor into the Brotherhood, he would have left them weeks ago.

As much as he tried, he still couldn't understand why the two women continued to travel together. They were so different. Nearly opposites, in fact.

Where Knight Ribisi was friendly and charitable, Grimaldi was course and vulgar. Ribisi was soft, untrained and fragile. Grimaldi was anything but.

The woman was a crack shot with every gun he'd seen her use, specifically the lever action rifle she seemed to favor. He'd seen her go toe to toe with feral ghouls, raiders, and a couple of Yao Guai that even he had been reluctant to engage, and she'd come out nearly unscathed every time.

It was fairly obvious that she was no common civilian. Not with the way she handled weapons and the skill she had displayed during a firefight against a raider attack the week prior. She was far too perceptive at tracking, and the way her eyes scanned their surroundings as she walked point were significant indicators that Olivia had had some kind of military-style training.

There was no way she had been a Brotherhood soldier. Her negative attitude about their beliefs and constant contempt toward Elder Maxson were enough evidence to dismiss that idea. Raiders didn't have half the discipline or skill that Grimaldi demonstrated, so that possibility was absurd. Ribisi had just recently reformed the Minutemen, and it wasn't likely that any of them would possess that level of training to pass on, and even if they did, it would take a lot more time.

That only left three military trained groups around this area. Gunners, Reilly's Rangers, and the Enclave.

He seriously doubted the last two options, as he'd overheard Knight Ribisi asking her about the Capital Wasteland and Grimaldi had remarked that she had never been there and couldn't answer many of Ribisi's questions about it.

Of course, she could have been lying, but he saw no reason for her to do that. It only left him with the theory that she had been with the Gunners at some point, but for whatever reason had broken away.

He'd offered her the same deal that he had given Ribisi, since she'd been tagging along on the trip to ArcJet to recover the deep range transmitter his team had needed. He was glad now, that she'd refused. Gunners - current, or former - couldn't be trusted.

Danse glared at the back of her head from his seated position on a large boulder.

He'd already advised Ribisi that she didn't need the woman's help, now that she had the Brotherhood at her back. But the Knight had once again refused to dismiss her companion, firm in her belief that without Grimaldi to watch her back, she wouldn't accomplish a thing.

That idea churned unhappily in his gut. As if that disrespectful, obstinate woman was more of an aid to her than the Brotherhood of Steel could be.

 _Completely preposterous_. What did she have to offer Ribisi that he could not?

But as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that the reasons Knight Ribisi relied on the woman were vital to her mental welfare. They had some kind of connection, an understanding that he couldn't quite decipher. Whether it was simply two women bonded over their similar interests in the people of the Commonwealth, or something more, he didn't know. Ribisi didn't seem to share her inner thoughts with anyone other than Grimaldi, and they'd both become defensive when anyone questioned the vault dweller about her past.

He still didn't know why the Knight wanted into the Institute so badly. The only information she'd volunteered was that they had taken something from her, and she wanted it back. Whatever that something was, it was important enough to lure the recalcitrant brunette along on her adventures without much effort.

Danse let his eyes roam across the horizon, pondering over his evaluations concerning the two women.

He liked Ribisi. She was calm and soft-spoken. She took orders well, and seemed eager to learn about the Brotherhood and their ways. But she was a terrible warrior. She panicked far too easily; ran when she should fight, hid when she should stand her ground, attacked when she should stand back and assess the situation. She had potential, but she was progressing at an undesirable rate, and he was questioning his judgement that recruiting her had been the right call.

And Grimaldi?

The woman was a beast when riled. Fearless in the face of the enemy, proud and undeterred in her beliefs - even if they were short-sighted and asinine - she didn't hesitate in her actions. But she was most often uncooperative, aloof and untrusting. She watched everything he did with a cynical, calculating eye that threatened to unsettle him. And he wasn't a man to be easily rattled.

He dared not consider that that particular fact had more to do with how she made him feel rather than what he thought she might do.

The brunette had made it pretty clear that she didn't agree with the views of the Brotherhood - his views - and that she thought of them - him - as a tyrant; egotistical and bullheaded. She didn't share his opinions on ghouls or synths, that much she'd told him outright. He'd tried to explain to her the kind of danger those abominations presented to the people of the wasteland, but she wouldn't even contemplate heeding his justifications for those views.

And she called _him_ arrogant and unyielding. _Bah_!

Grimaldi wasn't afraid of him. She'd already gotten in his face on more than one occasion, unafraid of challenging his orders or standing up for those monstrosities that he found revolting. He doubted she was afraid of much of anything.

He repeatedly told himself that his interest in her was simply because it had been so long since he'd taken notice of anyone; had been such a long time since he'd been with a woman. The past decade of his life had been focused on one Brotherhood mission after another, with no time to indulge in personal affairs.

He'd be okay with that reasoning.

Besides, getting involved in intimate relationships - professional or otherwise - would only lead to more heartache, and _that_ he could do without.

Danse sighed, recalling the fact that he wasn't known for being perceptive when it came to personal feelings or dealing with emotions, but his subconscious argued that he wasn't completely ignorant of body language either. As much as he hated to contemplate that there was something between them, he knew it was true. He'd felt it the very first day Ribisi had introduced them, and it had caught him off guard.

It hadn't escaped his attention how his body had responded as his gaze slid over Olivia that first time. His throat had tightened and his voice cracked when he'd spoken to her, his ears burning with embarrassment. But he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. They drank her in, noting long legs and strong thighs, her curvy hips and trim waist. The way the strap of her rifle nestled gently beside her ample breasts, and the fierce grip of her slender fingers as they'd shaken hands in greeting. Every nerve in his core had been burning like a bonfire.

The shocked look in her sparkling green eyes as their palms had touched, the soft bloom of color that had crept across the apples of her cheeks, and the way her stance had changed from steady and confident to restless and fidgety, were about the clearest indicators he could've gotten that Olivia had felt that instant allure as well. There was an intense storm raging in her eyes that had mesmerized him.

Was it the mystery of it that still held him captive now, or was there more to this than he dared to consider? He was unaccustomed to the kind of pull she had on him. It was troubling, and set his nerves on edge.

So far, he'd done well at keeping his attention on the work at hand, aiding Knight Ribisi in her quest for how to find a way into the enemy's lair, while keeping his distance from her companion and avoiding all situations that might put them in tight proximity. Yet his mind drifted to Grimaldi more and more, and awareness of her intensified with each passing day.

It was becoming a dangerous distraction.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He'd left his power armor at the Cambridge Police Station. It was either that, or stay behind and let Lily go to Goodneighbor alone.

Okay, not alone. Grimaldi would be there, and although he had no doubt that the woman would watch Ribisi's back, the thought of them being outnumbered by an entire town full of degenerates and disreputable freaks didn't sit well with him.

It felt odd, being in civilian clothes. The cargo pants and dark teeshirt he'd changed into weren't uncomfortable. It was just that he felt...naked without his metal suit. Vulnerable. It wasn't a good feeling. Yet, if he were to be honest about it, he agreed that stepping inside the town in power armor marked with the unmistakable symbol of the Brotherhood of Steel would simply be asking for trouble, and that wasn't what he was there for.

"Stop twitching," Ribisi tossed at him over her shoulder as she followed Grimaldi through the blue door at the entrance. "You're gonna make people think you're up to something."

He grumbled under his breath and pulled the door closed after him, just in time to hear a man's voice ahead of him.

"Hey! Hold up, there. First time in Goodneighbor? Can't go walking around without insurance."

Olivia and Knight Ribisi were standing in front of him when Ribisi quirked up. "Unless it's keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me insurance, we're not interested."

The sudden burst of courage probably had more to do with the fact that Olivia was standing beside her, right hand dangling close to the 10mm pistol strapped to her thigh, than anything else. Lily knew her protector would step in if the man made a move. He thought it a foolish deed, but the chuckle Ribisi's remark pulled from Olivia went straight through him and sizzled down his spine.

The man waved a cigarette-holding hand at Ribisi and drawled, "Now don't be like that. I think you're going to like what I have on offer."

"Yeah? And what's that?" Olivia cut in.

"Simple. You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or accidents start happenin' to ya. Big. Bloody. _Accidents_."

Danse cursed silently. Not even 30 seconds into the town and trouble had already found them. He'd tried to warn them about this place, but neither of the ladies had listened. He stepped closer, his laser rifle inching up in the mans' direction, ready to move in a flash.

A raspy voice from the alleyway to their left interrupted the exchange. "Whoa whoa whoa. Time out."

A lean figure approached from the dimly lit area and Danse's eyes widened, then narrowed at what he saw. A ghoul in a tricorn hat and long red duster. A ghoul! His finger inched closer to the trigger of his weapon.

"Hancock?" Olivia bubbled. "Holy shit, man. What the hell is this crap all about?" She was pointing a finger at the other man.

"Hey there, Sunshine," the ghoul responded in a husky drawl. "Sorry about the hassle."

 _Sunshine_? Was that some sort of endearment, or just a personal quirk? That first possibility had his teeth grating together.

The ghoul turned black orbs on the leather-clad bully. "Finn, apologize to the ladies and then take a walk."

"Why? They ain't one of us. You're going soft, Hancock. You keep lettin' outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."

Hancock stood a few feet away from them, a laid-back stance and cool demeanor. Years of combat experience and training told Danse that the ghoul wasn't just going to let the man get away with the insult. The slight lean forward onto the balls of his boots, the nearly undetectable tense to his form as he prepared to strike out.

Unfortunately, Olivia had already beaten him to the punch. She'd moved up behind Finn while he was blabbering away, and the man's face twisted in surprise when she kicked his feet out from under him and pinned him to the ground on his back, with a knee on his right bicep and her combat knife to his throat.

"Maybe you didn't get the memo, Finn, so let me fill you in. I'm no outsider. Now I want you to take a good, hard look at my friends over there," she motioned towards Danse and Lily with a short tilt to her head, "because if you so much as even _dream_ about touching them..." She shifted, letting her other knee replace the knife blade, and her voice dropped to a menacing snarl, "you won't make it to see that next mayor."

Finn was choking against the weight of her kneecap cutting off his air supply and he grabbed for something at his back pocket. Hancock hadn't moved to intervene, and Lily was wide-eyed and frozen in her spot. Danse knew that Goodneighbor had its own rules for how things of this nature were handled, and since the ghoul wasn't attempting to break it up, he figured he shouldn't either. But he didn't relax his grip on his laser rifle, or let his eyes wander for too long away from the hideous thing that labeled itself mayor.

Olivia's awareness was just as sharp as ever, and she flipped the blade in her hand, stabbing through Finn's hand before he could touch his weapon. He cried out as the blade sunk through flesh and past bone, and the tip hit the concrete below him with a TINK.

"Uh uh uh," she tsked at him. "You're not listening, Finn. I tried to play nice, give you a friendly warning. But you're starting to make me mad. I don't take kindly to threats against my life. Makes me wonder if you're the type to learn from your mistakes." She glanced back over her shoulder at the ghoul. "What say you, Hancock? You think he can learn to play nice?"

Hancock grinned maniacally, the skin stretching his puckered mouth into a repulsive sneer. "If he doesn't, he won't live to regret it."

Thankfully, the situation ended there, with Finn making a getaway out the main gate and the ghoul retreating into a brick building at the center of the town. Olivia dragged Ribisi down the alley and around the corner to the Memory Den, Danse at their heels.

It wasn't until later, as Lily sat on one of the loungers in Amari's basement as they waited on some detective to arrive, that Danse realized what Olivia had implied during that earlier encounter. She'd said "my friends". Friends... _plural_.

Did that mean something, or was she just tossing him in with Ribisi because she knew that her companion wanted him around?

He unknowingly began pacing back and forth as he contemplated the possibilities. It shouldn't matter, he told himself. Whatever Olivia thought of him should be of no consequence. He shouldn't care. But he did, and the whole scene played out in his head over and over again as he tried to weigh the meaning of her words. She could have said 'companions', or friend - singular. She could have left it ambiguous altogether and just said 'those people'. But she hadn't.

By the time Ribisi's detective friend arrived, Danse was so worked up that he nearly shot the abomination on sight. Luckily for that monstrosity, the Knight called out a warning just as Danse laid eyes on...it. _A goddamn synth!_ Did his two companions have any friends that weren't considered abominations?

When Amari had 'that thing' and Ribisi step into separate memory pods, Danse nearly lost his mind. He didn't want her being connected to the machine - either machine, pod or synth - in any way. It was too dangerous. But Ribisi insisted. So he stayed there for two hours, pacing, listening to the doctor walk the woman through some old memories of a mercenary. It was of little consolation that Olivia seemed just as uncomfortable with Lily being in that pod as he was.

When the pod door finally opened, Ribisi was exhausted and only wanted to sleep. So they'd gone to the Rexford and rented a couple rooms for the night. Danse took one and the ladies would share the other. He spent an hour cleaning his weapon before his stomach rumbled and he looked up at the clock. Nine. He'd missed dinner, but that wasn't uncommon. There was no room service, so he'd have to go down to the underground lounge if he wanted any kind of food.

He washed the oil and laser residue from his hands and wiped the grime from his face before leaving his room. He slipped a small wad of paper between the door and the frame before closing it, and locking it behind him. He trusted no one. 

It was dark out, the electric signs and a few hanging lamps the only lights to see by as he made his way to The Third Rail. An old subway stop converted into a bar. Lovely place for degenerates to gather.

He ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that tonight, he was one of those degenerates.

Another damn ghoul met him as he entered the place, said something he didn't really catch as he swiftly passed by and down the stairs where the deep crooning of a lady singing echoed against the tiled walls. It was oddly relaxing.

He spotted the bar and took an empty stool, and the bartender - yet another damned robot - approached him and asked for his order. The menu was slim in the food department. A shot of whiskey, a bowl of Blamco Mac and Cheese, and a beer would have to suffice tonight. He couldn't complain. He'd had far worse.

Make that three beers.

Another song graced their ears and the woman on stage said she was taking a break, before she came around to occupy the stool next to him. He didn't look over, but he felt her eyes studying him as she took some water from the bartender who was complementing on her performance. She thanked the floating pile of scrap and turned towards Danse.

"Hey there, Handsome. I've never seen you here before."

Danse took a swig from that third beer before he met her gaze. Bluntly cut black hair framed her pale face, her lips painted red.

"Just passing through," he said before refocusing on his bowl of cheese-covered pasta.

"There's something special about you, isn't there, Sugar? Don't tell me, let me guess."

He gulped down another swig of beer when the woman slid off her stool and placed a hand on his shoulder. He froze, not knowing how to respond. What did she want? Why was she paying attention to him, when there were so many other people in the bar?

"Ahh, of course," the singer said huskily. "It's those powerful muscles of yours. My, I could get used to looking at those."

Danse knew his face was redder than a tato, because it was burning hot when he looked up into her hooded eyes. He still didn't know how to reply, and his Adam's apple bobbed harshly as he tried to swallow the lump in his suddenly dry throat as he realized she was flirting with him.

"Sorry, Magnolia," a honeyed voice said over his right shoulder, shutting her down. "This one's not on the menu."

He recognized that voice, though the overly-sweet tone was new. _Grimaldi._ He didn't know whether he should be thankful, or apprehensive.

Annoyance flashed briefly over the crooner's face before being replaced by disappointment, and she sighed. "Have it your way, Sugar." She let her palm slide slowly down his bicep as she stepped back. "Too bad, we could've had some fun."

Danse was looking back into his nearly empty bowl as the songstress moved once again to the stage and a new figure took the seat next to him. He dared not look over at her, for fear he would find her smirking at him and she'd start in with her taunts and jabs at his expense.

"You okay?" she spoke softer than he'd ever heard before. It surprised him, and he glanced over hesitantly.

"Affirmative."

She offered a sympathetic smile, her voice smooth and calming. "If I'd known you were coming down here, I could've run interference sooner. Magnolia can be a little...much."

Why was Olivia being nice to him now? After weeks of jibes and insults, and pot shots at his character, she was being far too...nice. There was just no other word to describe it, and the feeling he was being duped kicked in.

"What makes you think I didn't want her to be?" He purposefully tried to throw her off whatever game she was playing.

"Oh yeah," she snorted. Yup, there was the Olivia he'd grown to...uh, know. "You sure had that I-want-to-be-seduced look, sitting here with the tips of your ears looking as if they'd been set on fire."

 _Damn_ , she had him there, but he wasn't quite ready to surrender. Maybe pulling her off her high horse required a slightly different tactic.

"Just because I'm not accustomed to seduction doesn't mean I don't want it," he tested.

 _Aw, hell._ Danse could feel his face burning again, but the statement had done its job. Olivia's eyes widened slightly and were darting back and forth between his as she contemplated what he might be implying.

And what was that, exactly? He hadn't really thought this through before opening his mouth and letting words fall out that he normally would never have spoken. Did he wish Olivia hadn't interrupted? No, he was definitely glad for that; Magnolia wasn't his type. Was he saying that he wanted Olivia to make a move on him?

His lungs began to burn and he realized he'd been holding his breath, but his eyes hadn't looked away from her intense gaze, and...

 _Yes_. Yes, that's exactly what he was saying. Would she accept the invitation? Another moment passed.

"Well, then...I apologize for getting in her way." Her green eyes dropped to the bar as she pushed herself off the stool, walking off toward the exit stairs with a stiff back and her head held high.

He fought the urge to go after her, knowing it was better this way. He watched her move off, his feet itching to follow. It was just as she reached the bottom step that a lean man wearing a green cap stopped her with words Danse couldn't hear, but the look on his face said that the two knew one another. If the smile that spread the man's lips a moment later was any indication, Olivia had just made him an offer that he wasn't going to refuse, and it was all Danse could do to keep his ass plastered on the stool and not go after them as they went up the stairs.

He didn't know what was worse, the look of pity he saw on the face of a balding man as he turned back to his beer, or the hollow feeling in his gut, as the fact that Olivia had rejected him fully registered in his liquor addled brain.

 _Okay_. There was obviously no more denying the fact, so he might as well man up and admit it. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he let out a ragged breath. _I want her._

And he hated it.

He hated the fact that his face flushed whenever he found her sparkling green eyes assessing him. He hated that his stomach twisted in nervous knots whenever he had to speak to her, and how his chest tightened with desire whenever she was near. His body seemed to have a mind of its own and he was resentful of how little control he seemed to have over the effects she caused, even when they were facing off as they had nearly every day since he'd taken up his position as Lily Ribisi's sponsor.

He berated himself for not having the willpower to fight it and wipe out this ridiculous interest altogether. He wished that he'd never met her.

But deep down he knew that was a lie, and he hated himself for his weakness.

 


	3. Bird In A Cage

 

Olivia sat propped against the high side of a lounger in the Hotel Rexford, her legs stretched across MacCready's lap as she half-listened to him going on and on about his latest kills ratio. The sniper didn't seem to notice that she had other things on her mind. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care. After all, she'd offered to buy him beer if he'd keep her company for a bit, and Mac was never one to turn down caps or free beer.

She didn't want go back to her room. Lily was still resting after the ordeal at the Memory Den, and she didn't want to disturb her. But she couldn't stay in the Third Rail, either. Not with Danse down there.

She'd made a complete fool of herself, stepping in between him and Magnolia like she had.

Was it really her fault that she'd misinterpreted his reddened face and tense shoulders as a sign of discomfort? Apparently a little embarrassment wasn't enough to turn him off from being seduced by the wanton advances of the lounge singer. Or so he'd implied.

At first, Olivia had thought that maybe he was attempting to open a door of opportunity by suggesting he wouldn't spurn an advance from her, but after brief consideration she supposed that he was likely only trying to get her to disappear and leave the path clear for Magnolia to return. After all, he'd been pretty clear over the past few weeks that all she did was get on his last nerve.

_Message received, Paladin._

She'd vacated the premises with her cheeks burning in embarrassment. Running into Mac had been a slight relief, the distraction she needed to keep her eyes from straying back towards the bar.

MacCready nudged a booted foot that hung over his thigh. "Are you even listening?"

"Huh? Sorry, Mac," she shook her head. "I was just....thinking."

He sniggered boyishly. "Miss your tin can boy toy?"

"Shut up," she snarled at him half-heartedly. "He's not my boy toy, ...or my anything else. I can barely stand to be around him."

"Uh huh, sure. Even if that were true," he gave her a look that said he thought she was full of shit, "he clearly doesn't think the same way. That jerk has it bad for you."

Olivia scoffed. "The hell he does. The guy hates me. We argue about everything."

Mac waggled his brows. "Bet that'll make for some great sex."

Her face flushed at the idea, and she rolled her eyes as if it were the most ridiculous suggestion she'd ever heard. The truth was anything but. If Danse put as much passion into sex as he did arguing with her over his damn idiotic views, it was likely to be a mind-blowing, earth-shattering experience that she would totally be on board with.

"Trust me," Mac nodded, "I may be immature at times, but I recognize when a guy has the hots for a lady."

Olivia would argue that statement - both the idea that Mac was perceptive enough to read another man's intentions, and the idea of Danse having "the hots" for her - but she just didn't have the energy, nor the courage to rehash the events that had taken place for a third time in less than an hour.

Whatever it was MacCready thought he saw in the Brotherhood Paladin, could not at all be the case, and it would be far better to leave it alone than to dwell on it, or she'd be so distracted that she would start making mistakes.  

And in the wastelands, mistakes meant death.

Besides, getting involved with the Brotherhood of Steel in any capacity was asking for trouble. She'd learned that the hard way. She was already pushing her luck by simply traveling with Ribisi, now that Lily had joined their ranks. It wasn't smart, nor safe. And yet she couldn't just walk away and leave Lily to their mercy.

The Brotherhood had its own agenda in the Commonwealth - as it always did wherever they gathered - and it was a decently safe bet that Lily was just a means to an end for the East Coast Chapter and their arrogant elder. Lily had no idea what they were truly capable of; being frozen in a vault for over 200 years had a tendency to hinder access to a lot of important information. That made Lily an innocent in this mess, and Olivia had vowed years ago to fight for those who couldn't protect themselves. She wasn't about to go back on that now - dangerous and tempting Paladin in the mix, or not.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lily was well aware that something had transpired between her companions while she'd been resting in the run-down hotel room they'd rented in Goodneighbor. They were both acting...odd.

She had gone back to Amari's Memory Den to discuss what they'd learned the previous day, and neither of her companions had argued with her when she'd said she could go alone. Olivia had headed for the Third Rail and Danse had stayed in his room, doing who-knows-what.

After her meeting with Amari, she had gathered them together and told them they were headed for the Glowing Sea to find a scientist named Virgil. They would make a brief stop in Diamond City to talk with Piper and grab some gear before heading out.

Again, neither argued with her.

Actually, neither of them were saying much of anything - to her, nor anyone else, and certainly not to each other. They hadn't even looked at one another all damn day.

What the hell had happened?

Once inside the gates of D.C., Lily pulled Olivia into a secluded spot down a side alley and pinned her with the mom look.

Olivia eyed her warily. "What?"

"Spill it."

An eyebrow lifted. "Spill what?"

"You and Danse. I know something happened and you're going to tell me what."

The brunette shook her head and gave a little shrug. "Nothing happened."

"You expect me to believe that? After the two of you have spent the last three weeks at each others' throats; all of a sudden you're both pretending the other doesn't even exist, and to be honest, it's weird."

Olivia bit the inside of a cheek before replying. "Maybe we both just got tired of head- butting brick walls," she said in a cool tone and walked off.

Lily stared after her, wondering what exactly that meant, and how long this new development would last.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Eight days. Eight, excruciatingly uncomfortable and excessively long, days.

That's how long the uneasy silence between her stern-faced commanding officer and her tough-as-nails companion had lasted.

They had made the trek through the Glowing Sea, and by some miracle of pure luck had located Virgil. Danse had been less than thrilled to find out that the former Institute scientist had been mutated by the FEV and transformed into a super mutant. She'd seen them previously in her travel with Olivia, and though her friend hadn't seemed to experience much difficultly dispatching them, she'd warned Lily that the majority of the creatures were quite dangerous. Apparently the virus transformed them into violent beings, while at the same time diminishing brain faculty. Big, dumb and ugly, but highly dangerous, Olivia had told her.

It shocked them all that Virgil had not lost an ounce of his former intelligence, though Danse had still wanted to kill him.

Thankfully, Lily had been able to talk him out of it, by reminding him that Virgil was the only one with any kind of knowledge on how to infiltrate their enemy's hideaway, and he'd backed down. Reluctantly.

Olivia hadn't been eager about being down in the cave with Virgil, either. But at least she hadn't made a fuss about terminating him - though she hadn't argued against Danse when he'd voiced his opinion on that matter, which bothered Lily.

Virgil had willingly offered up what information he could, once Lily told him why she was there. The Institute had stolen someone from her, and she wanted him back. Danse hadn't known the whole reason for Lily's need to find them, and he still didn't. She wasn't wholly trusting of the Brotherhood's motives, though she tried to be. This new world may be drastically different from the one that had left her behind, but people...people don't change, and not all people could be trusted.

But they'd taken Virgil's word that answers could be found inside the head of an Institute courser, and so here they stood, outside Greenetech Genetics. Danse was facing off with Olivia as they argued about how they should proceed. Danse wanted to call in support from the Brotherhood, request a team of Paladins to infiltrate the facility and acquire the chip. His reasoning was that coursers were far more dangerous than any other combatant the women could face. Ollie disagreed. Loudly.

"Fuck that. This is Lily's operation, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let you call in your goons to take it all away from her!"

The Paladin was staring right back at her with a threatening scowl - something he did quite often and was quite adept at, and snarling.

"Don't you ever get tired of badmouthing us? What do I have to do to prove to you that the Brotherhood has honorable intentions?"

Olivia glared right back. "Leave."

"That's not going to happen."

"I guess that proves my point then. Thanks."

Lily closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath to calm herself. She knew that the precarious truce of the past week wouldn't last, but it was blowing apart far more dangerously than she'd assumed. Things were going to get very messy if she didn't put a stop to it.

"Guys! Could you just shut up for a minute?!" she yelled between them and tried to push them apart. She wasn't strong enough, but at least she'd gotten their attention, because they were both standing there with locked jaws, eyes burning into one another. "We don't have time to wait for backup. This courser may not be here much longer, and we may not get another chance at this. We've got to do this now."

It was a logical argument, and one that neither of them could argue with.

"Fine, but you're not going in there," Olivia turned her by the shoulders and pushed her over to a red metal bench. "Park your ass here, and don't move until we get back. Got it?"

Lily's butt hit the seat and her nerves prickled. "No, Olivia! You said it yourself, this is my operation and I'm going in."

"Negative, Knight," Danse grumbled from behind Olivia. "You're not ready for something this dangerous."

Lily opened her mouth to resist, but Olivia stopped her cold with just three little words. "You promised Nate."  

 


	4. Virtually Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon and some not-so-accurate science. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

 

Danse hadn't overlooked the instant change in Lily's posture when Olivia had brought up Nate outside GreeneTech. Who was he? Was he the person the Institute had taken from her? The one she was trying to get back? He considered the thin, golden wedding band that constantly adorned Ribisi's left hand. Was Nate her husband? If so, why had the Institute taken him? And when? Hadn't she been locked in a vault for two centuries?

The answers were important, but currently not a priority, so he focused on the task ahead.

Grimaldi was ahead of him on the second floor when a voice came over crackling speakers and relayed the fact that a courser had already engaged the inhabitants, and now he and Olivia had been spotted as well. Gunners popped up in their path again and again, but were no match for Olivia's sharpshooting, or the burning fury of his laser rifle. The two of them sloughed through the building after the courser while barely breaking a sweat.

Up, up, up they went, around debris, navigating the winding maze to get to the top floor. Danse expected that they would have to put up one hell of a fight once the courser was confronted, but it seemed that the thing had a different idea. It didn't seem fazed by their presence in the least, and it wanted to...talk.

"Why are you following me?" it asked from inside the room. It was hidden by the wall, but Danse could tell it was moving closer.

"Come a little closer and I'll whisper it in your ear," Olivia suggested casually.

"Are you here for the synth?"

Olivia looked back at Danse with a puzzled expression. Synth? What synth?

"Uh...sure. And an extra goody," she pulled the rifle sling over her head and slipped the combat knife from her boot before just strolling into the room as if she and the courser were meeting for brunch.

Was she insane?

Danse followed closely behind her, ready to lay down cover fire if needed.

The thing, dressed in a long leather coat and carrying an Institute pistol, let her walk right up to him. It clearly wasn't afraid of her, or Danse, judging by the flick of his eyes over the two and the lack of ensuing movement.

 _Big mistake, Freak._ Danse hid a knowing smile and clamped his teeth together. Olivia may end up being put out of commission, but she wouldn't go down without inflicting a lot of damage first. Danse just needed to be ready to move if he had to finish the thing off.

"What do you want?" the thing asked her.

"Oh, you know..." she inched closer to the courser and Danse could tell she was ready to attack. "Green grass, clean water...that chip in your head." And she leapt at the courser, taking it by surprise with the lightening quick action. They hit the floor, Olivia straddling the courser's chest and plunging the knife blade into its shoulder as it reached for a fabric-covered box at its hip.

_A stealth boy._

Danse rushed forward, stomping his boot down on the courser's other arm as it tried to bring its weapon into play. He pointed his laser rifle at its head and hatred rolled off his tongue in a menacing growl.

"Don't move, _Synth_."

He didn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. Olivia had removed the blade from its shoulder and shoved it up through the courser's throat into his neck. Blood oozed from around the wound and the courser's already hollow eyes began to glaze over.

That was that. They'd done it. Olivia retrieved the chip from the base of the courser's skull while Danse stared down at the two remaining Gunners that had been trapped in the room with the Institute killing machine.

"I suppose you'll want me to let them go," Danse addressed Olivia without looking at her.

"Why?" she asked as her combat knife cut through hair and flesh. "They're _Gunners_."

That was curious. The tone of her voice divulged vehement aversion to the mere title of their faction. Either his idea that she had once been a Gunner was completely wrong, or whatever reason she had for leaving them behind was very personal. But her answer was good enough for him, and he ended the two without a second thought.

Olivia stood up then, her hands covered in blood and holding a strange-looking object in one.

"You don't touch the girl though."

The girl. The one locked inside the side room that the Gunner's had mentioned on their way up here. Danse looked at Olivia with a hard glare as he recalled the courser's words.

"She's a synth," he spit. Correction. It.

Olivia walked over to one of the Gunner's crumpled body and used his green shirt to wipe off a big part of the blood from her hands, the device and her weapon, before tucking the chip in a bandana and stuffing it in a pocket of her cargo pants.

"Yeah, and?" She went to the terminal by the locked doors. "The Gunners were holding her prisoner, and the courser wanted to return her to the Institute. They think they own her. Like she's a fucking piece of bubblegum."

Danse gritted his teeth. "It's a _synth_ ," he repeated in a louder voice. "A machine."

Olivia turned on him, her lips in a snarl. "Look at her face! Her eyes! Don't you see how afraid she is? Fear, Danse! Machines don't feel fear!"

"It's just programming, Grimaldi," he argued. "They programmed it to carry out the impression of human emotions. That's how the abominations blend in!"

She was in his face again, her green eyes burning with anger.

"That's the worst excuse I've ever heard for trying to find a way out of feeling guilty for killing an innocent being. And yes - before you even start on that shit - she IS an innocent. She didn't ask to be created. They chose that for her, and then proceeded to treat her as if she was worth no more than a mop or a broom."

"It's not even worth that."

Green eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, Danse. I'm sick of your arrogant, intolerant bigotry, and I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now. Take a fucking hike."

He glared right back at her, ignoring the panicky sounding pleas from the synth behind the window of the other room.

"The feeling is quite mutual."

He left her there and went to find Lily, hating that he'd given up so easily, and even more bitter that he had nothing better to argue his case with than a few spewed lines of unconfirmed data theory.

No one in the Brotherhood had been able to verify that generation 3 synths didn't actually have emotions, or souls. But...considering they were machines, that idea was highly unlikely. Flawed maybe, but machines don't have souls. They couldn't experience emotions like fear or happiness, devotion or love. They weren't human.

He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that the only verified source of machine or computer was that damn chip imbedded in their brains. They bled just like a human, they had flesh and hair, bones and organs. Since when did machines need lungs to breathe, or kidneys to eliminate toxins?

Danse cursed and ordered that voice to shut the hell up, and he went slamming out the front door of GreeneTech in a rage.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Olivia stood silently smirking by the entrance to the main room of the Memory Den as Doctor Amari was explaining to Lily and her Brotherhood sponsor the ins and outs of how synths and their chips actually worked.

"You see," Amari held up the courser chip for their inspection as she talked, "these connection points interface with the brain in the form of electric impulses and transfer of information."

"Like a spark plug," Lily offered.

"In a way, yes. Because the synths are created in adult form, their brains are still void of all knowledge. They're robbed of learning process we go through from infancy into childhood. It would take far too long to teach them all that, so these devices relay all that information to the brain."

"Otherwise they would have to learn just like we do?"

Amari smiled. "Yes. And they still do. The chip provides the base information, but the synth brain - just like a human brain - is an extremely complex, organic computer. It processes the information it receives, and the individual brain judges what is right or wrong, and forms reactions and beliefs according to those concepts, in essence forming a personality."

Lily was nodding, but Danse was still hauntingly silent, back straight as a board and shoulders tight with anger. He clearly didn't want to be hearing any of what Amari had to say.

"Without the component, given enough time," Amari continued, "the synth would still evolve and become self aware, as long as the brain wasn't injured. That's just how the brain functions."

"If that were true, then how do you explain the recall codes?" Danse finally spoke up, though his tone was snotty.

"Without the chip, the recall codes would be no more than words, just like they are to you and me. The code only affects the chip itself, essentially turning the chip into a neural disruptor, effectively putting the synth into a coma so they can't fight back during reclamation. If I were to insert that same component directly into the brain of a born human - were that possible, of course - I could speak the recall code and it would activate the neural disruption and put that individual into a coma state, as well."

Danse harrumphed and Lily gave him a look that warned him not to be disrespectful. His frown deepened.

"So what you're saying is that their mind is separate to the component, not reliant on it," Lily said when she turned back to Amari.

"Basically, yes. If it weren't included during their creation, their minds would be completely their own. The implant is simply the interface used for the sake of manipulation and control, it isn't what generates their thoughts and feelings."

Olivia moved closer now. "And the brain itself doesn't lose any memories the synth gained before a memory wipe?"

"No, not technically speaking. When the chip is reset, the electrical impulses are essentially scattering the neural connections, but the memories are still there."

"Like the ones you walked me through with Kellogg," Lily's voice carried a hint of excitement, despite the name she brought up.

"Exactly. The mind wipe is the process with which those pathways are broken. Once disrupted, the brain can't reconnect them on its own, and the synth is essentially starting from scratch. The chip is reprogrammed, and the process repeats as new data is released into the brain. The synth, even reprogrammed, will likely form the same self-awareness that it had previously, essentially reforming the same personality, plus or minus some quirks depending on the situations and information it experiences."

Olivia grinned. "Makes it pretty obvious that the Institute geeks aren't terribly adept at their jobs if their property keeps developing sentience and the desire to escape to freedom and independence."

Amari nodded. "Yes, normally the synth's base personality, once formed, can't be completely wiped out, and will likely resurface even after a mind wipe. If they were timid and quiet before a wipe, those same qualities will emerge after reclamation, the same as if they were strong-willed and desired freedom before a wipe, they'll desire to be free again."

 _Hah!_ That rankled Danse. His jaw ticked beneath the rough hairs of his stubble and Olivia could see him grinding his teeth. _So much for his "synths are machines" theory!_

"Of course, that isn't always the case," Amari added, her brown eyes turning sad. "Just as the human brain can be damaged and no longer function normally, the same can happen to a synth brain, putting them into a permanent coma. It often takes several attempts before a synth ceases whatever behavior the Institute handlers deem undesirable. The mind wipes are dangerous, and not always successful. My best professional guess would be that such tendencies of unwelcome behavior finally suspend merely due to extensive brain damage caused by the numerous wipes. The more brain damage is caused, the less like themselves that synth will become."

"Synths are machines. They don't age, or sleep, or eat," Danse argued once more.

Olivia detected a slight waver in his voice as he spoke, though. Almost as if he was beginning to question all the things that had been previously drilled into his head.

"While that is accurate concerning Gen 1's and 2's, Mr. Danse," Amari's voice was still steady and friendly as she explained, "The generation 3 synth is a completely organic being. The fact is, they too will undergo cellular death caused by DNA damage, which is what produces aging. Although most of them seem to have been genetically enhanced to slow the process, in rare cases drastically so, they do age. Their organic organs have the same needs that we do, though again, the enhanced genetics can extend the periods between necessity. They still experience fatigue, and require food to fuel their systems, water to hydrate their cells. Otherwise they would die."

And at that point Danse turned on his heel and disappeared out the front door.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor Amari," Lily shook the older woman's hand with a smile. "We won't keep you any longer."

Amari handed the component back to her and gave a weak smile. "Good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for."

The ladies left then, off to follow Amari's clue about The Freedom Trail. This was turning out to be a long journey.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish the game explained synths better. All the information I've found is either incomplete or contradicts itself.  
> My solution? Find something that sounds plausible to me. I'm on the "synths are human" trolley, obviously.


	5. Cast A Cold Eye

 

 

"You need to ditch Danse," Olivia announced coolly.

Lily gave her friend the _we've-already-been-over-this_ look.

"I'm not saying it has to be permanent, but think about it. If the Brotherhood of Steel were your enemy, would you let one of their officers come waltzing into one of your bases like he's just an ignorant settler? If they know who he is, and they likely do, they won't be too eager to help you, after bringing him along to their secret base."

Lily hadn't thought about that. She was still learning the way this new world worked, who all the players were and who didn't play well with others. The friendlies weren't fond of teaming up, and the baddies wanted to kill them all. It was enough to give her a headache just sifting through the whole mess. Thank the stars for Olivia.

So she took Olivia's advice, hired a mercenary named MacCready to go with Paladin Danse as backup, and asked them to go back to Virgil's lab in the Glowing Sea for the schematics that would allow her to teleport to the Institute. Danse had promised that the Brotherhood of Steel would help her build it, and Dr. Virgil had already met Danse, so he should be willing enough to give him the information they needed.

And MacCready?

Well, Lily wanted him along to make certain that Danse didn't do anything stupid, like kill Virgil. Who knew if they'd need him again? Admittedly, her commanding officer could get a little...over-ambitious...when it came to eradicating anything he deemed to be an abomination. Just because he'd relented once, didn't mean he wouldn't carry out his earlier desire when she wasn't there to stop him.

She knew he was madder than a wet hen when she told him the plan. Those thick brows were already furrowed, but he seemed to always be able to make the scowl deeper, more furious. This time was no different.

But that wasn't the scary part. What worried her most, was the fact that he didn't even attempt to argue about it. Oh, he didn't hesitate to send an extremely terrifying glare in Olivia's direction - silently blaming her for this turn of events, as he always did - but he didn't say one word in protest. He simply picked up his pack, tucked the straps around his thick shoulders and marched off to gather his power armor for the trip.

Lily watched him walk off until his form disappeared around a bend in the street and buildings blocked her view, MacCready not far behind him.

"He'll be fine," Olivia remarked at her side, a hand on her shoulder.

"I hope so. This whole quest to find the Institute has been one slap in the face after another for him. I'm sure he's getting fed up with not being able to do things his way, since he's been used to giving orders for so long."

Olivia gave a little nod. "Maybe, but taking orders and carrying them out isn't a new concept to him. He's a soldier, and as much as I'm sure he hates being left behind on this part, Danse is a smart guy; He knows the part he needs to play is important. He'll be fine," she repeated.

"Yeah," Lily breathed. "He'll be fine."

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Danse was fuming silently as he led the long trek back into the Glowing Sea. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of having to walk back into that overgrown, mutated freaks lair, nor the fact that he had to let that sarcastic, self-important mercenary tag along.

He knew why Knight Ribisi had hired the man. She wanted that horrid abomination left alive, despite the danger it posed. The fact that Brian Virgil was a former Institute scientist was all the more reason to take away all possibility that he could turn on them, and she didn't trust Danse to refrain from doing just that, so she'd hired the mercenary to babysit him and keep him from doing his job.

The fact that the mercenary was the same man that he'd seen leaving The Third Rail with Olivia the night she'd rescued him from Magnolia's advances was grating on his already frazzled nerves. Danse didn't know what kind of relationship the two had, but this trip might be the opportunity he needed to find out.

Except....was he certain he really wanted to know the answer to that?

"I hope you remember where you're going," the mercenary croaked up from behind the mask of his borrowed hazmat suit. "I don't want to get caught out here in the dark."

Danse didn't respond, not in the mood for small talk. Minutes passed, the only sounds were the solid thunks of Danse's power armored feet clunking into the irradiated earth. Until...

"You pissed that the ladies sent you off like a scolded dog?"

Anger burned in his gut, but he wasn't about to reply. What would be the point? His feelings on the matter wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't make Ribisi trust him, nor would it make Grimaldi see him as anything other than an _overbearing, xenophobic jackas_ s. Her words, not his.

"How far is this guys' cave? My face mask is starting to fog up and I can't see much."

"Maybe it's because you won't keep your mouth shut," Danse stopped and turned to face him. "Less talking, more walking." And he moved off again.

The mercenary mumbled some barbs and hurried to catch up. It didn't take long before the man started babbling again.

"You're not going to stop talking at all, are you?" Danse exhaled woefully.

"Probably not," MacCready said proudly.

Danse shook his head and let his shoulders drop over the lost cause. "Fine. Then tell me... How do you and Grimaldi know one another?"

Ah...that caused a brief period of silence as they pushed further into the irradiated land. Had the question been too obvious? Why was the man hesitating? Because he didn't want to share intimate details, or was he trying to buy time while he came up with a lie?

"We ran into each other a few years back." When the merc finally spoke, his voice was unsteady and held a tang of sorrow. "She helped me with something...dangerous, so I kind of owe her my life."

"You know each other well, then." It was more of a question than a statement, but he didn't want it to seem that way, so he kept his tone even and nonchalant.

MacCready had caught up to his side by then, and he ignored the curious look the man sent him. As long as he kept his helmet facing fairly straight ahead, it would look to the other man as if he weren't watching for any certain reactions.

"Uh...well, I guess we do, yeah. ...Why?"

Danse trudged on. "I'm simply compiling intel. The more I have, the better equipped I'll be."

MacCready sent him another _I-don't-buy-that-for-a-second_ look, and again Danse ignored it.

"Riiiiight. Well, just so you know, then, Ollie is more than a friend." Danse involuntarily tensed at that, and a strange feeling passed over him unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It wasn't anger - that was an emotion he'd gotten quite used to recognizing these past many weeks. No, it was something similar, but different, twisting his gut in bitterness. "She's like family; A sister. She gets hurt, someone is gonna get dead."

The threat didn't escape Danse's attention, but he wasn't in the slightest bit intimidated by it. MacCready may be a decent sniper - if his conceited accounts of epic kill shots were anywhere near factual - but he wouldn't stand much of a chance against a Brotherhood soldier.

It also didn't go unnoticed how the mercenary had said 'sister'. Unless MacCready had some strange ideas about what things went on between siblings, it seemed that Danse's earlier presumption that there was something physical between him and Olivia was erroneous.

Why did that make his stomach unwind with relief and his mood take on a trace of a lighter note?

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Stop. Right. There." A strawberry blonde stood on the other side of a cavernous room, flanked by a lean man in a newsboy cap and a white-haired woman toting a mini-gun.

Olivia stood slightly behind Lily's left shoulder, ready to pull her back and shove her to the side if bullets started flying. And with the bunch Lily was facing, you just couldn't be sure what they'd do.

"You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions." She eyed Lily warily, her honey-colored eyes narrow and suspicious. "Who the hell are you?"

Lily smiled politely, but it was weak and Olivia could see that she was nervous. "I'm Lily. Lily Ribisi, and.....my friends and I tracked down and killed a Courser at GreeneTech Genetics. Now I need help breaking the code on the chip."

Red (that's what Olivia had decided to call her) was looking at Lily bug-eyed at that bit of info, and she glanced between Lily and Olivia a few times before she remarked, "I'm sorry....did you just say you killed a _courser_?"

Lily's smile grew bigger, more confident. "Well," she looked over at Olivia, "she did, with the help of my comm---" Olivia cleared her throat and Lily glanced at her, reading her warning expression to censor the information. "...panion at the time."

A lean man in dirty jeans and a tee-shirt walked in behind Red and her entourage then, wearing dark shades and a laughable pompadour hair style.

"Deacon?" Olivia blurted out in shock. She knew the man was into some cagey shit, but she'd had no idea he was part of the fucking Railroad!

"Hey there, Beautiful. I didn't know you were stopping by, or I'd have met you at the front door."

Red looked over at Deacon with a surprised expression. "You know this woman?"

Deacon smiled. "Dez, when are you gonna learn? I know _everybody_. This..." He reached out and pointed at Olivia with an outstretched hand, palm to the ceiling. "...is Grim."

"Really, Deacon?" Olivia asked with a quirked brow, her tone unimpressed. "That's not terribly imaginative on your part. I think I'm disappointed."

"Hey!" He feigned offense, placing his palms over his heart and looking dejected. "I had two seconds to come up with that. Give me a break, will ya? Besides, it's a helluva lot easier to say than 'tracker, hunter, and courser-killing-beast'." He grinned again and practically everyone in the room rolled their eyes.

"I'm Desdemona, leader of the Railroad, and these are my associates, Drummer Boy and Glory. Now, if you'll indulge me for a minute... Why do you need the courser chip code?"

"The Institute took my son, and I might have a way inside to get him back, but... without that code, it won't work."

Everyone stared at Lily in disbelief.

"Is she serious?" Deacon asked Olivia, who nodded. "Damn."

"Well, that certainly changes things." Red considered the new information and then told her comrades to lower their weapons, motioning for Lily and Olivia to follow her. "We're letting you into our headquarters. You're the first outsiders ever to be given this privilege. We'll discuss the details about your chip inside."

They followed her through a wooden door and further down into the catacombs, lit mostly by candles that were placed about the open space. Olivia could see some old stone coffins, a few with skewed lids and broken pieces of rubble littering the floor. It crossed her mind that the crypt wasn't in the least bit cold or dank.

"So you know about the Institute, and coursers. I assume you also know about synths, then?" Desdemona addressed Lily.

"Yes. I recently got a short lesson about them from a doctor in Goodneighbor."

Red didn't reply immediately, taking a moment to file that little snippet of information away. Olivia could tell that the woman still wasn't convinced she could trust them, and she was being cautious about how she proceeded, carefully choosing her words and responses. Olivia didn't blame her. If she were being hunted by the Institute, she'd be acting the exact same way. Honestly, she'd be more vigilant, but that had more to do with her own past experiences than any fear of the men in lab coats and their leather-wearing killers.

"I see. So you understand that they think, they feel, and they act just like you and me. And yet the Institute treats synths as property. As tools." Her voice was filled with condemnation, spitting in anger. "They're playing god. Tinkering with things they don't fully understand. From that lofty vantage, it's easy to deny their creation's very humanity."

Lily nodded her agreement. "That sounds a lot like slavery."

"Exactly. So we seek to free the synths from their bondage. Give them a chance at a real life." Desdemona walked over to a nearby desk, a funny looking terminal sitting on its faded surface. "We're the only ones in the Commonwealth brave enough - or stupid enough - to fight the Institute."

"I'm not so sure about that," Lily offered. "There are people out there who aren't willing to just look the other way and let the Institute get away with it. But up until now, we just didn't know how to get to them."

Olivia cast her another warning look, but Lily had already caught her slip and clamped her mouth shut.

A man wearing a funny contraption on his head came over, and Red introduced him as Tinker Tom. Lily passed over the chip, which they agreed the Railroad would keep, and Lily would get the code she needed. As Tom worked at his terminal, Red pulled Olivia aside.

"How do you and Deacon know each other?"

Olivia shrugged. "He's hired me here and there."

"To do what?" Red's copper eyes scanned her face looking for tells. She wouldn't find any.

"Sorry," Olivia stated. "That's employer-employee confidential information. You'll need to ask him."

Red's eyes narrowed minutely, assessing her while she digested Olivia's response.

Finally, she nodded. "At least you can keep a secret. I can respect that. In this business, keeping secrets is what keeps us alive."

Tom handed Lily the holotape of information then, and Olivia led them back out into the main area, where Deacon was waiting impatiently. He reached out to Olivia, his warm hand on her forearm as he pulled her close.

"You didn't say anything to Dez, did you? About you and me?" He kept his voice low, so his fellow Railroad associates wouldn't hear.

Olivia reached up and put her forefinger on the bridge of his glasses, sliding them down his nose just enough that she could look into those cool, baby blues she loved so dearly.

"You ought to know me better than that," she didn't bother to hide the twinge of insult she felt by that inquiry.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped a bit. "I know. Sorry. It's just...you know."

Yeah, she knew. Deacon wasn't one to share information about his past. Personal or otherwise. And the things Olivia knew about him, about said past, were very personal. Desdemona may be his boss, but Deacon had a right to decide what personal information she needed to know. It wasn't Olivia's place to tell. Granted, Deacon was a bold-face liar and a bullshitter, and she was pissed as hell that he hadn't told her about his involvement with the Railroad, but he was still her friend, and she didn't turn on her friends.

"No worries. I got you," she pushed his glasses back into place and gave his chest a few pats. "See you around," she gave him a knowing wink and followed Lily back into the tunnels the way they'd come in.

 


	6. Duct Tape 101

 

 

Knight Lily Ribisi was a tantalizing puzzle. One that he'd spent many nights lying awake in his private quarters trying to piece together.

Ever since that first meeting when Danse had brought her onto the Prydwen, Arthur had been fascinated by her, and her life story. Technically speaking, she was over two centuries old, but she didn't look a day over twenty-four. She had Vault-Tec to thank - or curse - for that. They had tricked her, and other residents of Sanctuary, into taking part in an inhumane experiment, locking her in a pod and freezing her for study.

Sickening. No better than the Institute.

But somehow, she'd gotten out. In the span of just a few weeks, she'd found companions, made friends, and started re-shaping the world she now inhabited. It was unbelievable. Amazing. If he hadn't seen it for himself, he wouldn't have believed it.

He'd gone to Vault 111 after that first meeting, checking for facts to back up her story. As far as he and his staff could tell, she'd not been lying. The information he'd gathered and the resulting theory, he'd kept to himself. He'd seen the terminal entires, and Ribisi's dead husband's body. But no sign of the child that had been listed alongside.

A couple pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.

Now she stood in front of him once more, her brunette sidekick by her side - as always - informing him that she and Danse had found a way to get inside the very place that had been alluding them for months. Shock was only one of the many emotions buzzing through him at that moment. Elation. Pride. A feeling of satisfaction.

"There is only one minor issue," Knight Ribisi was saying.

"Which is?" It wasn't a surprise. It would never be just a simple task to access the Institute and take them apart. That's just not how war worked.

"The relay is only meant for one person, and...it will be a one-way trip."

Arthur's jaw flexed and he looked over at Paladin Danse, his most trusted officer. His friend. "There's no other way?"

Danse shook his dark head. "No, Sir. It seems not."

Arthur began to pace back and forth in front of them, thinking, trying to form a plan. Who could he send inside that could last long enough to gain more information for them? Someone capable of handling both combat and computers. Someone who--

"Sir," Ribisi spoke up, and he halted in front of her. "With all due respect, this is my fight. They are the sole reason I'm here. I brought this information to you, because Paladin Danse said that you would help me. This is my only chance to get in there and find the answers I've been looking for."

Her blue eyes watched him carefully, studying his face and then lifting to meet his gaze. He could see the worry that floated in their depths, the fatigue that tinged the thin skin that framed them a pale purple. She'd been tracking down answers for months, but still hadn't deemed the Brotherhood - him - trustworthy enough to expand on the reason why. The true, detailed reason. Of course he knew that now, since his brief flight to Sanctuary, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. Wanted to know if she had enough courage and faith to confide in him.

"And what is it, exactly, that you're hoping to find?"

He could see the birth of tears forming in her eyes now, as she fought to remain calm.

"My son. They stole him from me, and I want him back."

Arthur ignored the pang of guilt that pricked its way from his mind down into his chest at having made her say those words. He also ignored the urge to reach out and pull her into an embrace. As her elder, he could make no such gestures, especially with witnesses watching his every move. But his heart ached for her, and he cursed himself.

"Head down to the airport. I'll inform Proctor Ingram to assist you." Ribisi regarded him with large, stunned eyes. "And when you're ready to go, I have a mission of my own for you that I expect you to carry out. No exceptions."

Knight Ribisi nodded. "Yes, Sir. I won't let you down, Elder Maxson."

He hoped not. This could be the spark that sent the Institute up in flames, or the biggest mistake he'd ever made, but they would have to wait and see.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Danse and MacCready were trailing a little way behind Lily as Olivia led the way through the gate of Diamond City. They had gone out in search of the necessary parts to build the relay, and Lily wanted to stop in to see Nick and Piper and take a break. Tomorrow was Christmas, and she didn't want to spend it roaming the Commonwealth with the mission of infiltrating the Institute on her mind.

Olivia couldn't blame her for that.

But she wasn't thrilled at having to spend it with Danse, either. Diamond City only had one place to rent rooms, and she wasn't looking forward to being stuck in the same establishment where they might run into one another. After the fiasco at GreeneTech, and the ensuing looks of pure hostility he'd thrown her way since Goodneighbor, Olivia didn't hold any hope that he'd calm down any time soon.

In fact, he'd still barely looked at her since he and Mac had returned from the Glowing Sea. She supposed that was for the best, despite the gloomy mood it set.

They went to the Dugout Inn and rented a couple rooms. Of course Mac started bitching about having already spent way more than enough time in the Brotherhood soldier's company to last him a lifetime, but Olivia sent him a scathing look and he finally clammed up.

Lily had decided to rest for a while, so she dropped her pack off in the room and took a smaller, empty one, and left the bar to see Arturo. She'd been saving up her caps, and was hoping that she finally had enough to buy a mod for her rifle that she'd been eyeing for quit a while now. Hopefully he would still have it in stock.

Plus, she wanted to use the time alone to buy a present for Lily. She knew that Lily was still struggling to come to terms with how much the world had changed, and Olivia wanted to give her at least a small taste of what her life had been like before the war. What better way than to celebrate Christmas together?

She stopped at Myrna's - and nearly left before taking a look at any of the goods when the woman started in with her "I won't serve a synth" bullshit - and finally decided on a blue dress that she thought would bring out Lily's eyes. She also made a couple purchases at Choice Chops, bought a fine bottle of Rum before heading to Commonwealth Weaponry for a couple boxes of ammo for Mac.

"Hey, Arturo!"

"Heh-heh-hey! Look what the Brahmin dragged in." Arturo never failed to offer a friendly smile and brighten up the stiff ambience of The Great Green Jewel. "What have you been up to?"

Olivia sighed. "Oh Lord, don't even get me started. I feel like I've been walking the entire Commonwealth since October. Oh wait....I have!" and she gave a little laugh.

"Well, that's curious, but not particularly out of the norm for you. Find anything interesting while you were out?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Same dumbass mutants, bloodthirsty raiders and filthy vermin as always. Oh...there was this one Deathclaw though, a few months back, up near Salem. It was huge, very ugly and very pissed off. I'd hate to be the one to have to face that thing."

"Somebody is gonna need one heck of a weapon to take it out, then. But that's them and you're here, so...what can I do for you?"

Olivia bought the ammo she was after and asked him about the mod she'd been hoping to take off his hands, but someone else had snatched it, he informed her. He told her that if she really wanted one, assuming he came across another, that he'd hold it for her for a bit. She thanked him and started to leave when she saw another item that caught her eye - a laser pistol that it would put Danse's piddly weapon to shame, if she could mod it some more.

"How much do you want for that?" she inquired without taking her eyes off it.

"Uh... 918 caps."

Olivia nearly choked. "Nine hund.... Okay, Arturo, look...you and I go back a ways, and I want this," she pointed at the weapon. "Work with me."

Arturo looked down at the laser rifle while she waited, her booted toe tapping on the dusty ground at his storefront.

"Alright," he said. "For you, since you're such a cool customer... 700 caps."

That was still a lot, but at least it was closer to what she could do. A little more haggling and a few items trading hands, and Olivia walked away with a new laser weapon, and a few mods. She was so excited about her new purchases that she barely noticed a thing past her face. She went back to her rented room with a smile plastered on her face. There was just enough time left in the day to do the upgrades to the rifle, and wrap the gifts before tomorrow.

Christmas was going to be fantastic.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Danse jolted upright from an uneasy sleep. Knocking on the door of the rented room he was sharing with the mercenary pulled his bare feet to the worn boards of the building, and he rubbed a hand over his face before ambling over to open the door.

"Uh..." Olivia was standing on the other side, staring at him uncomfortably. "Did I wake you?"

He vaguely noticed a flush of color climb up her neck and spread across her high cheekbones, and he regarded the way her eyes were locked on his shirtless chest before darting away. He tucked away a smile as satisfaction bubbled to life inside him.

"Yes. What time is it?"

"Mmm, just after eight. I thought maybe you and Mac would like to join Lily and me for breakfast." Green eyes dared to look up at him and she forced a calm smile. "My treat, of course."

A thick brow arched at that. Of course? As if the friendly gesture was something so common between them that to think otherwise would be ludicrous.

"What's going on?" the mercenary asked sleepily from under the pillow that covered his head.

"We've been invited to breakfast," Danse told him shortly over his shoulder.

"On me," Olivia reminded him sweetly.

He eyed her warily before relaying it to the man on the other side of the room. What was she up to? She was being too nice, again. And while he couldn't say that he didn't like it, he sure as hell didn't trust it. But he accepted, and Olivia told him to meet them in the little kitchen of the Dugout, then left the men to dress.

They took turns washing up in the small bathroom and left for the kitchen area, surprised when they found a table full of food and two smiling, delighted faces greeting them.

"Merry Christmas!"

Lily greeted each of them with a hug and twinkling eyes, and Danse suddenly felt like he'd been kicked in the shin. And judging by the look on MacCready's face, the merc was feeling about the same. He'd completely forgotten that today was the twenty-fifth of December. It wasn't something he had been focused on these past few months. One day of crap just bled into another in the wasteland, and his mission to find the Institute had nearly consumed his daily life.

"Merry Christmas," he replied with a genuine, but sorry smile.

Olivia brought a coffeepot over to the table and set it down towards the center. "Okay, everybody sit."

MacCready pulled out the chair next to Olivia and held it for her. "Madam," he offered in a horrible British accent, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes, but sent him soft 'thank you' as she smiled.

"What a feast!" MacCready's eyes were wider than Danse had ever seen them as he scanned over the abundance of food that littered the table.

Olivia was beaming. "Yep. I did Brahmin steaks, some scrambled eggs, razorgrain toast with mutfruit jelly and freshly brewed coffee."

It smelled delicious, and when Danse took a bite a few minutes later it was utter bliss as flavors frolicked across his tongue. It had been nearly a year since he'd eaten a meal that didn't consist of mirelurk, molerat, or some hideous insect.

"Oh my God, Olivia," Lily was wide-eyed and holding up a hand in front of her full mouth as she exclaimed, "This is amazing!"

The men nodded in agreement and continued eating until their plates were empty and their bellies were full. As they sat around the table drinking coffee and resting their now satisfied hungers, Olivia stood up and walked over to a bag that sat against a wall.

She slid the strap over her shoulder and walked back to the table as she reached inside the canvas with both hands, pulling out two packages covered in old newspapers and handing one to Lily, and one to MacCready.

 "I know it's not a lot, but I wanted to get you guys a little something."

The merc whooped, while Lily made a little Oh sound and gently accepted her gift. Then Olivia walked around and stopped next to him, and Danse looked up to see green eyes so soft and kind that his heart began to swell with warmth.

"This is for you," she held out something solid that was wrapped inside an old fatigue shirt. He hesitated to reach out for it, and worry flashed across her face. "I wasn't sure if you celebrated Christmas or not, but I wanted you to have it," she added as if he might be offended.

Danse was shocked, yes. Overwhelmingly appreciative for the thoughtful gesture, yes. But not offended, and he lifted his arms to let her place it in his outstretched hands.

"Thank you," he muttered idiotically. He scooted his chair back away from the table a bit and laid the gift across his lap, pulling back the material. Underneath the faded green fabric was a laser rifle. Rust-free, gleamingly polished, and modded to the max. His mouth hung open as he lifted it for further inspection.

It was...exquisite.

And he suddenly realized what he'd seen the previous day when he'd noticed Olivia working at the weapon workbench next to Arturo's shop. At the time, he'd noticed that she was working on something that didn't look like it would fit her rifle, but he'd just assumed she was doing maintenance on something for Ribisi.

Oh how wrong he'd been, and he looked over at her in astonishment.

"You did this....for me?"

Olivia blushed hard. The deepest, reddest blush he'd ever seen on a human being, other than himself in the mirror.

"Merry Christmas, Danse," she said from across the table.

If his heart could burst from thankfulness and joy, it should have done it right then, because Danse couldn't recall a time when he'd ever felt so grateful or honored. And by Olivia Grimaldi, no less.

 


	7. Tunnel Vision

 

 

MacCready had left them when they departed Diamond City to head back to the Boston Airport. They had acquired the parts they needed to complete the Molecular Relay, and had spent the past four days completing the build. Proctor Ingram used the early morning hours of this last day of December to run a few checks and make sure everything was working as it should be. Well, as far as she could guess, anyway.

Paladin Danse, the Proctor, Scribe Haylen, Olivia, and the Elder were all standing by the platform waiting to send her off. Lily stood in front of her superior with her head held high, and her shoulders pulled back. They were tense with apprehension about what she would find once she made it to the Institute, but she was determined to go.

Maxson stood there as confident as ever, his face hard, and voice crisp as he gave Lily her mission orders. She nodded and saluted, "Ad Victoriam, Elder." It was only as he lifted his arm to return her salute that Lily saw something flash through his pale eyes. It could have been worry over the impending mission, and she wondered if he regretted his decision to let her go in place of another, more experienced and trusted soldier. But his gaze held hers for a split second longer than necessary before he replied.

"Ad Victoriam, Knight. God be with you."

Lily felt as if he'd physically given her a warm, gentle hug and she nodded before moving to face Olivia.

"Ollie." She hugged her friend. "I know I've said it a thousand times, but...if it weren't for you-"

"I know," Olivia interrupted, giving her a tight squeeze. "Remember what I taught you, Ribisi. Watch your ass."

Lily sniffed and nodded as they pulled apart. "Eyes on a swivel," she repeated Olivia's mantra for the hundredth time in less than three months. "Got it."

The woman had already strapped her trusty 10 mm pistol to Lily's thigh and handed her several clips full of ammunition, which Lily had placed in her pack.

She hugged Haylen, the sweet woman offering encouragement with a short hug, and Lily passed the Proctor, who gave her a holotape with instructions to download info from the first terminal she could find. Then Lily found herself standing in front of her sponsor, his dark eyes kind, but concerned.

"You'll do fine in there," he assured her. "Just keep your head in the game, don't let them talk you out of what you know is right."

Lily nodded. "Yes, Sir."

The others had stepped away from the line now, their farewells said, and Lily felt the need to give her Paladin one last piece of her mind before she left. Because who really knew if this piece of junk was actually going to get her into the Institute, or break her molecules into a thousand pieces that would never be put back together. Or worse.

"Danse?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me that you won't be so rigid in your beliefs, so fierce in your condemnations. There are things out there worth fighting for, but you may not find them if you keep going as you have been."

The look on his face told her that he had no idea what she was talking about, but she didn't have time to explain, so she just gave him a quick hug and chuckled half-heartedly.

"Just lighten up, okay?"

And five minutes later she was gone in a flash of blinding blue light.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
Danse stood in front of the relay platform for what seemed like hours. It seemed to have worked, because Ribisi had disappeared in a sizzling burst of light, and then all the equipment had been zapped like a short circuit and fried like burnt toast.

The Elder had retreated to the Prydwen, and Scribe Haylen had gone back to Cambridge. Ingram had mumbled something about getting more work done on whatever project she was overseeing inside the airport depot. It was just him and Grimaldi now.

She was sitting over on one of the old couches, staring off into the water to the west. He didn't know what she had planned to do while Ribisi was gone, but she couldn't just sit out here and wait.

He walked over to her. "She'll be fine."

Her eyes met his and she nodded, but it didn't seem to cheer her up. "Funny. I told her the same thing about you when you went off with Mac."

Danse offered a weak smile. "And you were right, so I am as well."

She puffed air out through her nose and stood up. "Yeah. Sure."

Olivia walked to where she'd placed her pack on the seat of another couch and opened it. Reaching inside, she pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to him.

"Here, she asked me to give you this once she was gone."

He thanked her and was about to ask her what her plans were when her pack fell off the bench and some of the contents spilled across the cement floor of the airport terminal. He leaned down to help her collect them and reached for the closest item, a scrap of red felt. A beret.

Interesting. In the many weeks of traveling together, he'd never seen her wear it, or any hat for that matter. He turned it over in his hands as he stood back up, and he froze. Recognition of the red and yellow patch that was sewn to its front flooded his brain, and the wording below the skull and crossed swords hit Danse like a barb-covered bat.

_NCR 1st Recon. The Last Thing You Never See._

He stood there holding the cap, his mind racing, shifting randomly through all the things he'd learned about Olivia over the last month and a half. Her combat skills - Her talent at tracking - The enormous amount of weapon knowledge - The way she carried herself - The offhand comments she sometimes made before she caught herself from divulging too much, and... those phrases she always uttered to Ribisi when she was teaching the Knight something new, like what she'd reminded her of just before Ribisi had teleported out.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have been so blind? He'd known she didn't fit in the Commonwealth, that she was too well trained to be any average wastelander. He'd obviously been very, very wrong about her involvement with the Gunners. But this? This was beyond his imagining.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed out, fury building in every nerve of his body. It all melded together into one big pile of steaming shit, and he lifted his eyes to her face. His lungs were burning in anger, his breath coming in sharp bursts. "You're fucking NCR."

It was the loudest, most vehement growl he'd ever heard escape his own lips, and he saw her flinch, but she held her ground. It was also one of the few times he'd ever used foul language. Right now, decorum didn't seem to matter.

" _Was_ , Danse. I _was_ NCR. I got out. I quit!"

He shook his head and snarled, throwing the beret at her chest so hard that he heard it thwack against the riveted strap of her rifle that crossed diagonally between her breasts.

"Once NCR, _always_ NCR," and he threw his hands up into the air and looked at the darkening sky. "I can't believe I didn't see it. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, told myself that you were just a really gifted fighter. Can you believe I thought you might have been a Gunner at some point? And I was willing to overlook it because of what you've done for Ribisi. But this?"

He jabbed an angry finger at the repulsive red beret in her hands.

"If you'll just let me explai--" she started.

Danse put up a hand and shook his head.

"I don't think I want to hear your excuses. I know what you are now, and for Ribisi's sake, I won't pass on the information to my superiors. But you have to go." He turned and walked toward the street, stopping to face her only after his boots left the terminal floor. "And don't come back here. If I see you here again, or anywhere near a Brotherhood post, I will not hesitate to report you."

He left then, making his way to the Vertibird docked at the airport so he could hitch a ride up to the Prydwen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when it seemed Olivia and Danse might have a chance to connect.... Damn those curve-balls of life.


	8. The Spy Who Loved Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some reflection fluff to set up what's to come.

 

 _Fuck_.

Deacon crouched in the dead bushes next the corner of the airport parking garage, cursing repeatedly under his breath as he watched the vault dweller - aka Agent Wanderer - zap away in a flash of light, surrounded by laser rifle toting soldiers. He vacillated between excitement and trepidation at the knowledge that the relay had actually worked. Or rather, it appeared to have worked.

Naturally, Dez was going to be pissed, and would likely blame him for not pushing Wanderer harder to lose the Brotherhood connection, but as far as Deacon was concerned, this was necessary, and only the beginning.

He wouldn't blame Dez, though. It happened to be true, even if he wouldn't freely admit it.

_Guilty is as guilty does._

As much as Deacon regarded Desdemona's leadership and admired the Railroad for their efforts in saving synths, and the things they'd accomplished since their founding, he just didn't have complete faith in their capability to defeat the Institute. Oh, the Railroad had the courage to fight, and the will, they just didn't have the means. They lacked the manpower and the tools to take on such a colossal enemy and remain fully functional afterward.

If the Institute could be defeated by the stealth of one man alone, he would gladly volunteer his life to do so, but that was not the case. The Institute had an interminable army and the means to destroy them with minimal effort, and the Railroad would be wiped from the wasteland for good. He couldn't risk that. There was still too much to do, countless synths that needed their aid.

Even if by some miracle they were able to destroy the Institute, it would take years - hell, maybe even decades - before regular folks began to accept that synths weren't the dangerous monsters they'd been coerced into believing they were. The synths would still need people like Glory and Wanderer, Tom and Dez, and even Carrington to help them filter into the population smoothly. And that meant undetected. If the Railroad attacked the enemy head on, the entire operation would likely be wiped out in a single blow of their own making.

No, it was better to let someone else do the heavy lifting.

The Brotherhood, as much as Deacon despised them and their ignorant, biased and arrogant ideologies, were the better recourse to do the job. They had the tools, and an army of bloodthirsty wack-jobs at their disposal. They hated the Institute just as much as the Railroad - albeit for different reasons - and had just as much will to see the Institute fall as any Railroad member had.

So he decided not to interfere when Wanderer went to the Brotherhood to build her relay. Let them try. If they failed, then the Railroad would do what was necessary - step in and finish the job.

_Plus, a few hundred less Brotherhood soldiers running around the Commonwealth wouldn't be such a bad thing._

Everyone but Olivia Grimaldi - and that walking grimace that called itself Danse - had left the terminal, and he doubted Wanderer would return any time soon. If she'd made it into the enemy's lair, it would take a bit of time to gain their trust so she could search for her son. In the meantime, he'd keep his ears open and his eyes on the airport, in case she returned there.

Deacon shifted his weight as he prepared to move off, but hesitated when he saw the paladin walk over to where Olivia was sitting, pensively staring out over the water. His jaw ticked when he saw the worried look on the soldier's face, and a little bubble of resentment formed in the pit of his stomach.

For months Deacon had watched - unintentionally, of course - as the pair skirted around one another. When he'd started tracking the vault dweller, his intent had been solely to keep track of Wanderer and gather intel. Learning that Olivia and that tin can jackass were attracted to each other was not only a shock, it was a huge disappointment, and he'd kept an eye on them ever since.

He sometimes pondered the possibility of fate versus free will, when he considered how Olivia had materialized into his life. He certainly hadn't expected her to come along, and her appearance in the same place and at the same moment in time as Deacon, was phenomenal to say the least.

He wasn't supposed to have been there. The plan had been to meet two synths in an agreed location and escort them to a nearby safe house. Unfortunately, they had gotten lost and ended up in a nearby town, forcing Deacon to track them down. It wasn't a friendly town, to put it nicely. Full of mercenaries, raiders and cutthroat merchants willing to sell out anyone for a few caps, the synths had unknowingly walked into a den of thieves. Luckily, Olivia had been there to save their asses. And she'd done it for no other reason than it was the right thing to do.

His cover was as D. Thomas Wilkerson III, a caravan owner looking for some new guards to expand his business from the Capital Wasteland to settlements all over the east coast. He'd sold it and she'd bought it, though her keen perception had quickly turned the tables on him and had the synths divulging their true identity, and him fessing up to helping them.

Her easy acceptance of the synths as people, and her willingness to continue aiding them, had drawn Deacon to her like a moth to a flame. He'd become intrigued by her, lured by the mystery of her background and why she was determined to see the synths to safety. He told himself it was simply because she was an enigma in a world filled with hatred and selfishness, and his curiosity yearned to discover why.

Olivia had joined his undertaking, not knowing she was inadvertently working for the Railroad. He wasn't about to tell her, not until he learned the truth about her past and knew he could trust her with such dangerous information. He spent months in effort to get her to open up to him, to let him inside the walls of protection she'd erected. If he believed her story about traveling east with her father after defecting from the NCR - which he did, by the way -  he'd be impressed by her ability to keep silent, to keep her secrets - not to mention her other skills.

 It was partly due to the fact that she could blend in with a crowd nearly as well as Deacon could - he simply dressed and acted the part he needed to play, and slipped through undetected. Olivia simply walked in and faded into the dark corners, unobserved by most. No one looked at her and considered her an outright threat, and that was their downfall. They underestimated her, and she knew that, using it against them. She watched and waited, determining who would be a threat and calculating how to remove them if needed.

Deacon had become far too dependent on her presence and skills, although he had to admit, they made a great team. But for the longest time, he refused to acknowledge that he was more than just impressed with her. He was enthralled by her; by her kindness towards the innocent, by her honorable character and her determination to see synths free and have a chance at their own life.

He felt guilty now, that she'd finally opened up to him and told him about her past, and that he'd still lied to her about his own. At least, mostly. He'd told her about Barbara, how she'd been killed by a gang of miscreants, he'd just conveniently left out the part about his wife being a synth and the fact that he'd been a part of said gang at one point. Not because he didn't trust her to keep it to herself, but because he didn't want her to think of him as the deplorable excuse for a human being that he was. And he'd kept his position in the Railroad from her, even after their relationship deepened into friendship.

He had no doubt she was disappointed in him because of that.

There was no way to deny that he and Olivia had gotten close back then, their own attraction sizzling under the surface and luring him to break Railroad rules that forbid intimate relationships. He cared for her, far too much, and that's why he'd called off their arrangement and gone back to HQ to work solo. He didn't want anything to happen to Olivia because of his job, and he made her promise not to look for him.

Imagine his surprise when she turned up in Diamond City a year later as a guard for an authentic caravan, and not just a cover. He hadn't done a very good job of keeping under her radar, and he refused to consider the reason for his lackluster performance as a Diamond City Guard was because deep down he had wanted her to know he was there.

But even then, he could do nothing. His life belonged to the Railroad, and he would never risk her life, or the safety of the other members, in order to be with her. She had understood, and she'd stayed away from him as best she could.

Now, as he watched Paladin Dick - or as Deacon liked to refer to him now, "Paladick" - touching Olivia's shoulder in an attempt to encourage her, Deacon fumed that a man like that would have the opportunity to be with a woman as incredible as Olivia Grimaldi.

_What does she even see in him?_

And then it all changed, suddenly going from comfort to confrontation when Olivia's secret went plummeting from her pack onto the terminal floor.

_Oh, shit._

He made ready to step in and cover her ass if she was threatened. Danse's face flared red in bright hot anger, and he threw Olivia's beret so hard at her chest that Deacon could hear the impact of it from all the way across the street.

To his surprise, the soldier did little more than berate her for her association - despite her adamant declaration of renouncement from their ranks - and he watched as Danse stomped off and left Olivia standing alone and shaking as darkness settled over the airport.

Deacon waited there for a little while after Olivia had grabbed her things and headed away from the Brotherhood base. He wanted to make damn sure that fucking asshat paladin wasn't going to have her shot in the back.

 _Fucking jerk_. Paladick didn't deserve her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
  
Danse paced from one side of his room to the other and back again for close to an hour before grabbing a bottle of the nearest liquor and downing half of its contents, berating himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. How could he have been so lax in his loyalty to his faction as to not see the truth of Olivia Grimaldi? It was his responsibility to protect the Brotherhood from every threat, and he'd let his attraction to that woman and her friendship with Ribisi cloud his judgement.

Even now he was failing to uphold his duty as a Brotherhood soldier, by letting her walk away. She was a danger to them all, and he'd just turned his back and warned her off. It was foolish, and could very well prove fatal to many brothers and sisters.

Olivia knew far too much about them, about their regulations, their leaders, how they operated, and what their plans were. If she passed on that information to their enemies....

Part of him said that she wouldn't do that, that her association with them wouldn't let her betray them like that. She was Ribisi's friend, and betraying the Brotherhood meant betraying Ribisi, and Olivia was too honorable and principled to turn on her friend.

But the other part of him reminded him over and over of what she was. An enemy; and enemies could not be trusted.

She had insisted that she was no longer with the NCR, but Danse was reluctant to believe that. Why would she still have the beret if she'd resigned? Danse couldn't imagine wanting to leave the Brotherhood, so if he ever chose to, the circumstances would likely be something he wouldn't want to have any reminders of. Why would she keep a symbol of her time with them if she didn't still feel loyalty for them? It made no sense.

What made more sense was that she was undercover, trying to use Ribisi to infiltrate their ranks and gather information on them to pass on to her superiors.

The sensible side of him said that the idea was ludicrous. He'd given Olivia the perfect opportunity to do just that when he'd offered her the chance to join them after ArcJet. She had heartily refused.

Yet another clue to her association he'd overlooked, apparently.

And yet, she'd accompanied Ribisi aboard the Prydwen on more than one occasion, studying and assessing them the entire time.

He should warn Arthur of her connection. If Olivia was telling the truth about her defection, then the Brotherhood had nothing to fear and no harm done. If she'd been lying, then knowing now could reduce or even do away with Brotherhood losses.

Despite knowing the risk of potential cost to their order, Danse still couldn't make himself go to Arthur with this knowledge, and he was ashamed by his lack of action. He knew what he should do, but he couldn't, because he knew what Arthur would do, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happened.

Whether Olivia was still NCR or not, Arthur would have her executed. The man would take no risk with his people or their mission, and he would terminate any and all threats to either without blinking. There would be no leniency, no compassion or debate. He would not care if Olivia was telling the truth or not. Her life would be ended with no hesitation, and Danse could not bear that weight on his shoulders.

He had to give her the benefit of the doubt. If she did as he had instructed, and stayed away from the Brotherhood, then he had no reason to reveal her secret. But if she raised a weapon against them, her demise would be of her own doing.

He would just have to come to terms with that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention that although I like Deacon, I don't travel with him often so I don't really know his character well and that may show in my portrayal of him. Sorry for that.


	9. Shockwaves

 

Tears poured in rivers down Lily's face as she stood looking at the young boy behind the glass partition, his little shoulders slumped over and his head hanging limp. The tightness in her chest was making it hard to breath, her lungs taking in deep gulps of air as she tried to regain some semblance of composure and control of her erratic emotions.

She realized now, that the Institute had played her since the moment she set foot on solid ground outside vault 111. They fed her crumbs, set her up to face Kellogg, tricked her into thinking Shaun was there for her to save. They had used her guilt and her love for her son to lure her into the Institute, just so they could show her this synth boy and shove the depth of her loss in her face.

How could these people be so heartless?

Now here stood this old man in front of her, pretending he could sympathize with her pain, anger and shattering despair. She wanted to pull Olivia's 10mm pistol from its holster and show him how much she despised his patronizing.

"You have traveled very far, and suffered a great deal to find your son," he affirmed in an eloquent and refined tone. "Well, your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded. It's good to finally meet you, after all this time. It's me. I am Shaun. I am....your son."

All Lily could do was stare at him in disbelief. Was he crazy? He was a gray-haired old man! How could he be her son? And yet...she looked closer at him, past the full gray beard and through the wrinkled skin of his face and she could see it...the resemblance to Nate was too strong to deny. The same blue eyes looking back at her, the same strong jaw and straight nose with wide nostrils.

"How is this possible?" Lily croaked. "You're older than me!"

"I know it's a lot to take in," he consoled softly and explained about the passage of time while she was still frozen. It did very little to appease her surprise, and absolutely nothing to lessen her anger. "You must have many questions. What can I say, to ease your mind?"

Her tears had mostly dried up now, but she sniffled as she thought of Nate, still frozen in that unforgiving tomb. "Your father... He...He never got to see you grow up." It's all Nate had wanted; to watch his son grow into a young man, and teach him how to play baseball, and ride a bike; to be there for his first tooth, his first date, and his high school graduation. None of Nate's dreams would ever come to pass now.

"Yes, what happened to him was..." The old man - Shaun - turned away briefly, as if he needed a moment to gather his own emotions at the knowledge that his father had missed out on every single milestone of his life, but the motions didn't seem genuine to Lily. "I've gone over the records of the incident, of course. It seems his death was an unfortunate bit of collateral damage."

Lily's eyes widened in shock. "Collateral damage?" A huff escaped her lips as disbelief shook her completely out of her temporary somberness. "That's all he was to you? Just another loss on a piece of data that you couldn't care less about?"

Shaun (if that's who he really was, because after all, she had no proof that he was who he claimed to be, and they'd lied to her thus far. What made her think they weren't still?) extended his hand and urged her to calm down.

"I forget that it's been such a short time for you. I don't have any direct memories, and I've had my entire life to cope with the loss. Has it always been easy? Of course not. But I've done my best to move on and live my life."

Lily felt heat fill her cheeks and her heart rate pulsed faster, pushing blood through her veins in a raging river of anger and betrayal.

"You just got through telling me that you had accepted your life at face value and hadn't questioned anything about your parents, and now you make it seem as if it's taken your entire life to get passed not having us around." Lily put up her hand, and shook her head. "You must think I'm an astronomical dimwit if you expect me to consider both statements as a truth. You what? I readily believe the first claim. The last, not so much, and that is a shame. Nate was your father, not some stranger in a foreign land that never mattered. He loved you, and you have the nerve to show such insolence to the man who gave you life!"

"You must understand, Mother, I--"

"Don't you dare call me that!" Lily spit. "You put me through hell out there. Set me up to take on a man that could have very well killed me, if it weren't for my friends. You kept the truth from me for months. And for what? To see if I loved you enough to continue wading through the blood and death to find you? What kind of a monster are you?"

Shaun didn't even bother to look hurt or offended. His expression never changed as he ignored her outburst and went on with his speech.

"You've been out there in the Commonwealth. You've seen what it's like. Out there, with those people...that's where the monsters are. They are barbaric and corrupted, and they'll never be anything more. I assure you that you're better off with us, in here... in the Institute."

"How are they worse than you, Shaun? Tell me. Explain to me how they are the monsters, and yet it's the Institute that sends its machines to the surface to kill and kidnap, that replace people with duplicates and burn homes to the ground, and terrify the public. Why on earth would I want to be here with you?"

"The Institute is the only thing left in the world that is worth being a part of. Those people, they are diseased, irradiated beyond help. There is no humanity left in them, no shred of civilized conventions. The commonwealth is dead. There is no future on the surface. I am surprised you've even survived out there, after I released you from the vault."

_Wait....what?_

"You let me out?"

"That's correct. The Institute had no need to keep you as a contingency plan any longer, to keep you suspended. I decided to release you, having no expectations that you would survive. I assumed you would be corrupted by the Commonwealth, if you made it that far. And I must admit, a part of me wanted to see if you would attempt to find me."

She snorted, her head shaking as laughter began to bubble from deep inside her. Not because any of this was funny, but because it was her defense mechanism. Focus on the absurdity of it all and she was less likely to succumb to the overwhelming grief and realization that all the hardships and pain had been for nothing. 

"So I was nothing more than an experiment to you. A guinea pig in your sick, twisted schemes."

"Are you choosing to decline my offer, then?"

Her blues seared into him as she spoke as clearly and confidently as she could muster. He hadn't even denied her accusation. He'd toyed with her emotions, risked her very life just to see what she would do. Her existence meant nothing to him, just as Nate's had not mattered. This man had no more care for her than the synths he created to serve him.

The Brotherhood's mission was forgotten as rage overtook her. The old Lily Ribisi - the prewar housewife and polite member of society - crumbled and floated away like ashes on the wind, replaced by a new Lily, honed by the unforgiving and cruel wasteland she'd been forced into, and her voice was cutting and precise when she replied.

"You're damn right I fucking decline."

The rush of adrenaline that followed was likely the only thing that saved her life. It was what pulled the trigger of the gun that was suddenly aimed at the old man's head; it was what pushed her into the elevator and guided her to the emergency relay, seeing her flash to existence in the courtyard of the CIT and popping a Vertibird grenade so she could be rescued.

It wasn't until hours later, after she had showered and changed, that Lily broke down in exhaustion and cried. Hounded by a plethora of emotions over what she'd lost and what she'd done, she hid in a dark corner of her house in Sanctuary until there were just no more tears left to shed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Arthur was on the command deck when Knight Ribisi finally returned to the Brotherhood a full two weeks after the teleportation. He'd given her 24 hours to recoup before calling her down for a meeting.

"Elder Maxson?"

Her voice was weak, sad and empty and he nearly didn't recognize it. She wasn't meeting his gaze, but was looking at his chest as if her body weren't even there, her mind drifting in a half-aware state.

"Knight Ribisi. Report," he said in the same gruff tone he used when standing in that open-spaced stage. The haunted look in her eyes had him adding a "please" to it, though.

"My mission to find Doctor Li was unsuccessful, but... I never had the chance to see her, Sir."

 _Shit_. Okay, that was disappointing but they would just move that issue to plan B. Next mission?

"And the holotape Proctor Ingram gave you?"

"Data collected, Sir. I've returned with Institute information for the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Excellent. And your son... Were you able to find him?"

Knight Ribisi looked at him then, blue orbs glassy and brimming with unshed tears. She was barely holding her shit together. He tried to tell her with his eyes that he was worried about her, because he couldn't let his voice betray his authority as elder. He had appearances to keep up, soldiers to command. That wouldn't work if they thought he was weak.

"No. My baby is long gone."

He couldn't imagine the pain and anguish Lily must be going through, but Arthur knew she was going to need time to come to terms with the news, and get herself back on track. If they were going to finish this war with the Institute then he needed every soldier in top fighting form, body and mind.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Knight, but I commend you on a job well done. Drop off that holotape to Proctor Quinlan, and then go see Knight-Captain Cade for a check-up. Have him report to me when it's complete so I can approve some leave time for you."

Lily bowed her head and feebly lifted her arm to salute, but Arthur stepped forward to catch her hand in his, and leaned closer so that only she could hear.

"No need for that right now, Lily. You've been through enough. Go. See Quinlan and Cade, and then please, get some rest."

Those blue eyes thanked him as he turned her toward the ladder to the next level and Arthur sighed as he watched her disappear through the hatch. This war was taking its toll on them all, and it still wasn't over. They had yet to find a power source for Liberty Prime, as well as nukes for his weapon arsenal. There was a lot to do and they were running out of resources to accomplish it.

Arthur needed all his best people on this, front and center, and he sent a squire off to locate Paladin Danse.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
Lily was just stumbling from the restroom in a half-sleep when she overheard Elder Maxson hissing curses from inside his quarters. The hour was extremely early and she hadn't expected to hear anyone awake, other than the guards on duty, so the noice grabbed her attention.

"Are you certain, Quinlan?"

"One hundred percent, Sir. I ordered the scribe's to verify their findings, then re-checked the information myself, twice over. There is no contesting it, Elder Maxson. Paladin Danse _is_ a _synth_."

Lily felt the blood drain from her face.

_No. No that can't be true._

There had to be a mistake, an error in the information. Danse couldn't be a synth. He just....couldn't! He hated synths!

Panic began to expand in her torso and spread through her like fire.

If Danse was a synth, then Maxson would have no choice but to exile him from the Brotherhood.

 _Or worse_ , that little voice echoed in the back of her mind.

Surely not, she silently pleaded as she considered the news and weighed it against facts.

Maxson held Danse in the highest of regards, placing him above other officers in the field, and in the most trusted position as his right-hand ally. He respected Danse, as a soldier and a man. Lily had seen how close the two men were. Maxson wouldn't order the paladin to be executed....

_Would he?_

Lily rushed off to find Scribe Haylen, and find out what the hell they were going to do to keep Danse out of harm's way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two conversations with "Father"/Shaun (that first meeting and the one on the roof of CIT) were mashed up to fit my story better. 
> 
> Next chapter might take a while to tweak. I've got to rethink where it was headed last time and revamp it according to my new plan. I want more plot in this take.  
> And I'll forewarn you.... sex is gonna happen. ;)


	10. Cold Is The Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this out a lot sooner than I imagined. I re-wrote the entire chapter, and was surprised at how easily it flowed out. I hope you all like it!

 

Olivia wasn't surprised that Danse had been angry at finding out about her past, but she'd hoped that he would at least give her the opportunity to share why she'd left, and at least try to understand that she had no intention of using what she knew about him or his people to bring them harm. Instead, he had skewered her with condemnation, threatening her life if she dared show her face to him again.

What had she really been hoping for? That Danse had begun to care for her, and would forgive her past associations and her actions against his order? Well, not _his_ order, exactly, but close enough.

Perhaps she shouldn't admit that the reason she was distraught now was because she had begun to believe that through his time with Lily, Danse would begin to see that his views and beliefs needed to relax, or that he would start to learn that things weren't nearly as black and white as he had been led to believe.

Perhaps she shouldn't admit the reason she was so deeply hurt by his loathing and refusal to hear her account, was because she had begun to expect better from him. Why? Because she had hoped that he might reciprocate her growing feelings for him, and wouldn't look at her as just another vulgar mercenary or barbaric wastelander.

Apparently she'd been a fool to believe the stubborn paladin could change. After all, the only difference between his behavior now and back when he'd first joined them, was his occasional silence on a matter that, before, would have earned them a loud tongue-lashing of disapproval; the only reason he hadn't killed the ghouls at The Slog and let Doctor Virgil live was because of Lily, not because he had become more tolerant of them.

It seemed that Danse had not grown past the hatred and bias he'd lived with for so long, and Olivia lost all hope that he ever would, or that any personal feelings he might have for her would make a difference in his acceptance of her, any more than he had for others.

Additionally, the face-off with Danse had resurrected painful memories that she had locked away, reminding her of all her failures, all the horrible things she'd done, to replay in her mind like a wheel of torturous shame.

Olivia had never been fond of drinking alcohol; she'd seen it destroy more than one honorable man because consumption had gotten out their control, and she'd been careful to keep herself in check by limiting its use. And drugs were something she had never touched - unless it was medication that would save her life - but for the two weeks since her departure from the airport, she'd made an exception, alternating in states of drunk, high, and passed out on a mattress on the top floor of the State House in Goodneighbor. She didn't want to think about any of it, not the mistakes she'd made, nor the losses she'd suffered - and certainly not the hatred she'd seen in Danse's eyes - so she'd let Hancock dope her up on Calmex, and swallowed whatever glasses and bottles of hard liquor he'd handed her, in hopes of blocking it all out.

No one was going to miss her, and no one was going to give a crap if she was in top combat form or not. Lily was gone and wouldn't need her anymore, now that she had the Brotherhood of Steel at her back. Olivia wasn't hard up for caps, and the few friends she had wouldn't notice her absence for a while. Hell, maybe never. If she disappeared, they'd probably just think she'd gotten killed or went off on another caravan run.

Nothing was really turning out to be worth any effort she gave at trying to be a better person. Not leaving behind a duty filled with detestable atrocities, not saving the ass of a pre-war relic, and certainly not falling for a Brotherhood of Steel soldier.

Olivia pushed herself up into a seated position on the mattress and nearly fell out of bed, as she expected to be closer to the floor. Her head was pounding, and she had to force her eyes to focus on her surroundings. She was not in the attic room, as she'd been over the past many days. She was...

_In a room of the Rexford?_

A movement behind her pulled her head around, and a sleepy-eyed bald man reached out to rub her back.

 _Deacon_. What the hell was he doing there? And what the hell had happened?

"You all right?" he asked as he leaned over to the bedside table and handed her a can of water.

"Fuck no. My head feels like it got slammed in a car door and then pummeled by a hundred super mutants."

He chuckled. "Weeeell, that's what drinking an entire bottle of vodka, and doing four rounds of Calmex will do to a girl when she lacks the sense to stop after one shot."

"Fuck you, Deacon."

"Yes, you did." And he waggled his brows, which Olivia barely noted had been washed clean of the grease he typically wore to disguise the fact that his natural hair color was not dark brown. Odd, but...

Ugh, Olivia's head pounded and she felt nauseous. She was not in the mood for his crappy jokes. "Seriously, Deacon. Not now, okay?"

She tried to stand, but she was dizzy and had to reach out for the wall nearby for support. Her current destination was the bathroom. Pronto, or there was going to be a very nasty surprise waiting for whoever came into this room next. She shuffled through the doorway and kicked the door closed with a bare foot, barely making it to the toilet before every bit of the contents of her stomach - little though it was -  came back to haunt her.

After a few minutes, when she knew there was nothing left, she reached up to flush and then sat with her back to the wall and groaned. She realized her pack was sitting in the opposite corner, and she used every ounce of energy she had to stand, strip off the white t-shirt, shower and brush her teeth, but when she was finished, she actually felt normal.

_Shitty, but normal._

When she was dressed, she opened the door and walked out into the room. Deacon was sitting on a ragged chair with a pot of coffee, two metal mugs on a small table next to him. She could smell the bitter aroma as it permeated the small room, and she sat on the edge of the bed to pull on her boots.

"Feeling better?" His tone said he was asking with sincerity, but there was something else in it that needled her attention, something lingering just out of recognition.

"A bit. You gonna share that coffee, or have you started indulging yourself with an entire pot?"

He grinned and poured a cup, sliding it toward the edge of the table. "I'm always willing to share with you, Beautiful."

There was that something again, hovering under the smirk and the frail attempt at humor. He wasn't acting like...well....like Deacon. It was almost as if he was...worried? If he hadn't already slid those damned shades back into place, maybe she could've analyzed his eyes for a better clue, but as it was, she just couldn't fathom what was going on with him.

"So are you going to tell me what you're doing here? What I'm doing here?" She waved a hand around the room. "Last I recall, I was with Hancock at the Third Rail."

Deacon finished a drink and set his mug next to the coffeepot, rising from his chair.

"You really don't remember anything after that?"

Uh oh. Olivia felt a nervous jitter slink down her spine. That something in his voice now sounded a whole lot like disappointment. As if by not recalling she was wounding him. What the fuck had she done? She was apprehensive about asking, but it was the only way she was going to know.

She sighed, "What did I do?"

Deacon just stood there a moment, his expression blank before he finally shook his head and brushed past her to the dresser that sat against the other wall.

"Nothing of major note." His voice cracked ever so slightly, and normally Olivia wouldn't even have noticed. But today, standing there watching Deacon be unlike every other version of himself that she'd seen over the past several years, the oddity struck her like a hammer to the back of the head.

"You're lying," she turned on him, but she couldn't see his face, as his back was to her as he dug inside his bag that sat atop the dresser.

"Am not."

Olivia glared at the back of his head. "Deacon! Cut the crap and just tell me what happened," she commanded, hands on her hips.

His hands stopped moving and he slowly turned to face her. He reached up and pulled the shades away from his face and folded the earpieces in, shoving them into a back pocket. His blue eyes were locked on her face as he stepped forward and he relented.

"Fine. This is what happened," and he closed the distance between them, pulling her to him with one hand wrapping around her waist, the other reaching to grasp the back of her head as his lips pressed hard and hungry against hers.

Olivia jumped at the rushed contact, but the feel of his body pressing into hers stirred an all to familiar feeling inside her, refusing to let her pull away.

A wispy memory floated on the fringes of remembrance, bursting into full bloom as Deacon deepened the kiss, his grip tighter, more urgent as he pulled her hips into his. A memory of identical kisses, flesh against flesh, and hearing her name whispered in a husky groan in her ear, convinced her without a doubt that this time, Deacon was telling the truth.

Olivia couldn't stop herself from letting out a soft moan. There had always been something between them, she knew. Something unspoken and unexplored. Neither of them had ever felt the need to discuss it - both knowing that things had to stay professional, untangled. Breaking the unspoken rule would be too perilous, put either or both of them in danger. Feelings and emotions were dangerous, and they were both well aware that casual sex between them would cross the line into something more. It was too risky to tempt it, so they'd pretended their connection didn't exist.

Now, as her arms came up to encircle his neck and pull him closer, she didn't care about the reasons why, and she shook off the little voice that whispered from the back of her mind, reminding her of her attraction and the feelings that stirred inside her for a certain angry paladin. After all, Danse was out of her life now. He'd made sure of that. Any dream she'd had of finding a way into his heart had been flung into nothingness by the bitter words he'd spit at her. He was out of the picture for good, at his own choosing.

But Deacon was here. Deacon; who never asked her to be anything but what she was. Deacon; who knew her deepest, darkest secrets and still looked at her like she was a saint. Deacon; who trusted her - and that was a miracle in and of itself - to keep the secrets she knew about him locked away.

Deacon was a liar, a conman of sorts, but all for the good of others. He didn't do it to gain anything for himself, other than the satisfaction of giving a metaphorical finger to the Institute with every synth he saved. He was a good man, with a good heart and a noble character, and Olivia loved him for that.

Her head clearing, need building at her core, Olivia let herself accept what he was offering. Coffee was forgotten as clothes peeled away and hit the floor, and the two ended up back on the bed where it had all started.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
When his eyelids cracked open he could tell by the pale white light that filtered into the room that it was past midnight. His body was relaxed and warm, Olivia's soft curves snuggled into his side and his arm around her. He could hear her deep breathing, and for a few minutes he just lay there listening to each one, comparing it to the rhythm of his heart. He could hardly believe that this was happening, but he felt no contentment.

He knew why Olivia was in his bed now, and it wasn't because she was in love him. Oh, she cared for him, of that he was one hundred percent certain. She was even attracted to him, he knew that as well. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't like how it had been with...

He took a calming breath and made himself finish the thought. 

_.....With Barbara._

Maybe if he'd made his move sooner, if he'd quit the Railroad back when he first realized how much he loved Olivia, then maybe she would feel differently now. The connection between them had been strong, and it could've been nurtured and grown into something beautiful. But as it was, he'd done nothing. He'd played it wrong, choosing his job and the Railroad mission over a chance at a life with Olivia.

 _That was a stupid plan, Deacon._ Should have seen the bigger picture on that one.

And now it was too late, and the knowledge that his chance had passed tore at his heart. And worse, knowing that her heart belonged to that bigoted, arrogant Paladin, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He silently cursed the Brotherhood of Steel. Why did they have to stick their noses into things that didn't concern them? They always had to come along and fuck everything up.

It had been a dick move on his part to make a move on Olivia when her head and heart were both messed up. He had never claimed to be a saint, but he sure as hell had never taken advantage of someone he cared about. Not like this. The feeling was not pleasant at all, but now that he'd done it, he'd take whatever he could get. If that meant sharing her life and her bed, then that would have to be enough. He could do that. Just enjoy her company and ignore the empty look in her eyes. Pretend the heartache he saw in her was for any other reason than because of that asshat in an orange jumpsuit. It would be easy as pie, right?

 _Wrong_.

Lying to other people was a cinch, but lying to yourself.... Fuck. What was he going to do now? He didn't want her to settle for him any more than he wanted to walk away from this. How could he give her up? He wasn't certain he could. He would just have to convince himself that letting her go was for the best.

 _But not yet._ ..... Not yet.

Deacon breathed in deeply once more. Olivia slipped her arm over his chest, the palm of her hand covering his heart, and he trembled. Letting her go was going to kill him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well....the "sex" scene I wanted to include this chapter didn't happen to the extent I wanted it to. I just felt it wasn't the right time to get smutty....yet. :)


	11. When The Reaper Comes

 

Olivia kicked at the end of a broken log as she passed by it, grumbling under her breath and watching the fragmented bits scatter through the tall grass ahead of her like the shattered bits of her life, and asking herself for the hundredth time why the hell she'd let herself get mixed up with Lily Ribisi in the first place. She should've walked away the second Lily joined the Brotherhood, but she hadn't, and now she was paying for it.

She rubbed her temples for the umpteenth time that morning as she left the field behind the National Guard Training Center and entered the twisted shambles and gnarled trees, a bad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach like sediment in a muddy lake.

Whatever was going on, Lily was being quiet about it. The message she'd sent MacCready with had been very short and void of details.

Olivia didn't like being completely clueless, and heading for Listening Post Bravo with no explanation to why her presence was needed just screamed danger, raising the fine hairs on her arms and tickling at her survival instinct. Trouble was coming, and she was walking straight into it. It was disconcerting, and she didn't appreciate that Lily was leaving her in the dark, but she went anyway, because Lily had asked her to.

Olivia would have been perfectly content to stay in Goodneighbor, spending her evenings at the Third Rail and her late nights and early mornings with Deacon at the Rexford. This had been the pattern for the last few days, and Olivia saw no reason to upset it. Of course, Deacon had been trying to talk her out of indulging in Hancock's seemingly endless supply of goodies, but she didn't put much stock in his disapproval. If he had that much of a problem with it, he shouldn't have used her drugged state against her the night he'd finally made a move on her.

This thing with Deacon was not turning out to be what she'd hoped. The sex was fun and helped her forget her woes for a time, and other than the nagging about the drug and alcohol consumption, Deacon was treating her well, but Olivia knew this new development between them wasn't going to last. It wasn't that she couldn't make a life with Deacon. They had an effortless camaraderie, and comfortable companionship. They understood one another and how the other thought, and Olivia knew they would do anything for one another. The physical aspect was enjoyable, but the emotional angle was becoming...tricky.

Deacon hadn't said anything outright, but his behavior was changing. He was a little more anxious about her spending time with Hancock, and had asked her about her plans for after Lily returned, likely assuming she'd rejoin the vault dweller and her Brotherhood sponsor back out in the field. He'd been visibly comforted when she'd told him she had no reason to. Almost as if he were turning possessive of her, and that she could do without, because that meant his feelings for her were controlling his actions and he would begin to expect her feelings to mimic his own.

It was too easy to fall into bed with him, because of their attraction and because she was trying to escape reality. She was using him - or rather, she was letting him let her use him, because Deacon wasn't a stupid man, and he knew exactly what was happening. But sooner or later, he would have to go back to his job, and Olivia -if the drugs didn't killed her first, like she half hoped they would - would have to face the truth that no matter how deeply she cared for Deacon, he wasn't the man she'd dreamed of sharing the rest of her life with.

Now that _that_ particular hope was dead, she'd already accepted it would be best for her to simply be alone. That way, no one else would get hurt. Now, she just had to drum up the nerve to do the painfully disagreeable job of informing Deacon of her decision.

Olivia picked her way through the wooded area to the bunker, her rifle loose but ready for action in her hands. The sound of gunfire ahead made her quicken her step and she arrived just as Lily put a round through the last functioning rooftop turret. Checking her surroundings, and seeing no direct danger, she moved in.

Lily looked worried, but she smiled when she saw Olivia approaching, and stepped towards her a few feet as they met up, embracing her tightly.

"Glad to see that you made it back," Olivia remarked softly.

"I'm so glad to see you, too," Lily professed. "Thank you for coming."

"So what did you learn?"

Lily's expression turned dour. "I'll tell you later, Ollie."

"Okay, then would you mind telling me why I'm here?"

The signs of sleeplessness bruised the area around Lily's blue eyes, and she pinched her lips together as if she were afraid to speak. When she did manage to reply, her voice held a taint of nervous fear.

"Maxson is out for blood and it's my fault."

"What? Why?"

Lily sighed, "I brought back a holotape full of data I stole while I was in the Institute, and it had information on it that...."

The vault dweller looked off over the eastern hill and Olivia reached out and took hold of her arm, pressing her to continue. "That, what?"

"He's a synth, Ollie."

Olivia stood unmoving, unsure how to take that. "Who's a synth? Maxson?"

"No..... Danse. Quinlan ran comparisons of the DNA on the list to the DNA in the Brotherhood data banks, and Danse's matched one of the escaped synths."

Olivia's gut twisted as her brain put the two pieces of information together in comprehension, and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

".........That's insane," she breathed, and her hand lifted from Lily's arm to rub her temple again in thought. "He's been in the Brotherhood for years! Surely he's the proof that synths aren't automatically murderous machines. It was pretty clear to everyone that Maxson admired him; Danse was his go-to officer for just about everything. Now he wants him dead?"

Lily nodded. "And he ordered me to do it."

The news really shouldn't have been all that surprising to her. After all, Olivia had seen the elder's arrogance and hatred first hand, and had heard plenty of stories about his cold-hearted policies on being he considered non-human. It shouldn't be a shock to find out the man lacked mercy.

"Fucking prick," she growled. "Okay, so what's the plan?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't know. Get him out of the Commonwealth and hide him as far from Maxson as I can get, I suppose."

"Where is he?"

"Well, if Haylen is right, he's somewhere inside this bunker."

"What do you need me to do?" Olivia asked without hesitation.

Things between her and Danse may have been demolished, but she wasn't about to let him get murdered for something he didn't choose and that shouldn't define him. She'd walked away from that kind of shit years ago, and wasn't about to start ignoring it now. Maxson had no shred of decency, and she'd be damned if she walked away and let another innocent be executed. 

"For now, can you stay out here and watch our backs? After that, I'm not sure."

"Absolutely. Go do what you gotta do, I'll keep them off you as long as I can."

Lily disappeared inside then, and she climbed up the hill and found a decent cover spot above the bunker. Lily had been gone only a few minutes when Olivia heard the sounds of an approaching Vertibird, and she readied herself for battle. She lifted her rifle and used the scope to get a better look at it, and was surprised to find only two people aboard; the pilot and Maxson, himself.

That was curious. Why wouldn't he bring more men, if he knew where Danse was at? But then, when she really stopped to think about it, Maxson's only true fight would probably come from Lily, and he likely knew that. Danse would kiss his ass and do whatever the hell Maxson told him to, and a suspicion rushed across her thoughts.

What if Maxson was using this opportunity to rid himself and the Brotherhood of Lily? All he had to do was say that she had violated the codex, aiding a known traitor, and her death wouldn't even be questioned. He'd be rid of the vault dweller and her sponsor in one swift blow, and no one would be the wiser.

She waited silently as the elder exited the landing area and approached the bunker door, letting him get just to the edge of the worn path before stopping him with the cold fury that was beginning to push through her veins. She'd never respected powerful men who abused their positions or spread hatred through merciless acts, and Maxson had rubbed her the wrong way since that very first meeting months ago. She figured it was pointless to hide that any longer. 

"That's far enough, unless you'd like a hole for a third eye."

Maxson's boots immediately halted and he looked above him, scanning the trees until he saw her. "Ah. I should have postulated that Knight Ribisi would bring you along for this. She seems to have an unhealthy attachment to reprobates and abominations."

Olivia smirked. "It doesn't matter what you call us, Maxson. It wouldn't change the fact that we're still better human beings than you will ever be."

He huffed. "Please. You're scum on the bottom of my boot, and your friends are no better. Knight Ribisi will be better off without you."

Well, if his statement could be taken at face value, then he didn't mean to harm Lily. So again, she had to ask, why hadn't he brought more people? Just as she opened her mouth to remark, Maxson's eyes dropped to the entrance of the bunker and Olivia could hear footsteps. They stopped just below her, but she refused to take her eyes off the Brotherhood leader, or her finger from its position near the trigger of her rifle.

 

 

* * *

 

  
As Danse and Lily stepped out of the elevator they could hear muffled voices outside the bunker, and Danse immediately tensed up. He recognized the voice behind the angry series of hissed syllables that slithered into words.

 _Arthur_.

Who the second voice belonged to he couldn't quite tell, for it was quieter, as if further away, though it was clear the two were in a face off of sorts. Suddenly Danse was second-guessing his decision to accept Ribisi's help to leave the Commonwealth, and his step faltered. He didn't want bloodshed on his account, and letting Lily pit herself against the elder would most certainly lead to that. Even one death on his account would be a burden to carry, and he couldn't live with himself with that kind of guilt. He wasn't worth it.

"Don't back out on me now, Danse," Lily prompted, "Just stay close, and let me do the talking."

She sounded so sure of herself, and her posture was straight with confidence. Maybe she could pull this off. After all, he'd seen her talk her way out of more than one mess, maybe she could do it again.

He swallowed hard and let her lead the way out of the safety of the prewar building. Arthur's gaze immediately fell on them, and the man's eyes narrowed dangerously. His pale eyes pinned Lily down with white hot anger and his voice was heavy with disgust when he exploded at her.

"Knight! I should have you exiled for this traitorous betrayal."

Danse could see a fat bead of sweat drip down her jaw from her temple, and he wondered how he'd fallen so far as to let this slip of a woman stand up against the elder in his place, and he felt shame creep into his bones.

"This isn't about me, Elder," Knight Ribisi said calmly. "This is about a man who has been loyal to you since the day he met you. A soldier that has risked his own life on far more than one occasion to accomplish your goals and defeat every enemy of the Brotherhood."

"Danse isn't a man. It's a machine! An automo-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, Arthur! Don't you ever get tired of spouting that garbage? I know I get sick of hearing it!" Lily snapped with irritation.

The bout of derision took both men by surprise, and Danse saw Arthur visibly shocked into momentary silence. It seemed that Olivia Grimaldi's temper and lack of restraint for tolerating opposing beliefs was finally rubbing off on the knight, and Danse wasn't sure whether he should be horrified by the display, or thankful for it. It would either add fire to the elder's anger and earn his wrath, or it would impress him, and possibly earn some lenience out of respect.

Regaining his composure, Arthur went on. "That thing is a danger to the Brotherhood. An abomination that should never have been created."

Danse flinched at being called 'a thing' and it suddenly occurred to him that this might be how other synths felt when people considered them less than human. He'd spent over a decade believing he was human, feeling human and going about his life like he was human. If no one would have told him the truth of his origin, he never would have suspected he was a synth. And if he couldn't tell the difference when being a synth, then what difference could there really be?

"Maybe," Lily was saying, "But he does exist. Who are you, that gives you the right to play God, to pick and choose who gets to live, and who has to die? You're a hypocrite, Arthur, no better the Institute."

That made the elder clamp his teeth together and glare daggers at her as he maneuvered to find another avenue for his argument.

"He was an infiltrator. Sent by the Institute to gain access to our procedures and knowledge. A spy. Spies get executed."

Lily shook her head. "Are you listening to yourself? A spy? Danse?" She laughed - actually laughed out loud at that - and Arthur's glower deepened. "Do you honestly think that the Institute is smart enough to have contrived that deep of a plan, and left him in place all these years? You're giving them way too much credit."

"He went AWOL when he found out we knew what he is."

"And you would have too, if you knew the people you worked for would turn on you without mercy." Lily was shaking a bit more now - whether from nerves or anger, Danse couldn't be sure - but he was certain she wasn't going to let it stop her from ending this without bloodshed, or die trying. "Think about this, Arthur. Danse spent over a decade of his life battling for you. Taking on missions that could have killed him, and risking his life to help you find the Institute so that you can destroy them. If he were truly under their control, do you honestly think they'd let him hurt them?"

Arthur started to speak but Lily held up her hand and spit, "I'm not finished." She impaled him with her blue eyes and Danse watched his old friend swallow hard. "I know you think you have to execute him. But there is another way, and I can help you if you'll hear me out."

Arthur was working his jaw now. The elder had never appreciated being told he was wrong about something, and probably more so the fact that it was coming from a woman whose head barely reached the top of his chest. Danse had seen Arthur punish more than one person who had the nerve to stand up to his authority, and he worried what the man would do now. When Arthur's eyes flicked up above them to the top of the bunker, Danse couldn't help but turn to see what had drawn the man's attention, and his chest squeezed tight when he saw Olivia standing tall, her rifle trained on the elder.

He couldn't believe that after everything he'd said to her, she'd still come to help save him.

Maybe they might just make it out of this mess alive, after all.

 


	12. Hollow Ground

 

Ribisi had made a deal with Arthur that gave Danse his freedom. Or at least some semblance of it. At least his execution had been rescinded, and he was released from the fear of being hunted down like an animal. There were stipulations, of course. He was forbidden from contacting Brotherhood soldiers and warned to stay away from their posts. If he fired upon one of them, his life was forfeit, not that he would ever dream of doing such a thing, but Arthur apparently wanted to make it clear what he thought of Danse now - an untrustworthy monster unfit to bear the Brotherhood emblem.

Danse followed behind Olivia as she led the way toward Sunshine Tidings; Ribisi had started a training camp for the Minutemen there, and thought Danse's skills might be best put to use lending a helping hand to the militia. He was grateful for the chance to keep himself busy so that he wouldn't have time to wallow in self pity.

Olivia hadn't spoken since Lily had left the bunker to return to the Prydwen, and she'd avoided making eye contact. His eyes kept drifting to her back, ramrod straight and proud as ever. He was glad to see that his verbal attack of her hadn't harmed her pride or character, but he still felt like a jerk for the arrogant and unforgiving way he had reacted.

"Ollie?"

She kept walking, not looking back.

"Olivia, please STOP! There's something I have to say to you and I don't want to say it to your back."

She stopped walking, but that was all the regard she offered. Danse moved up next to her.

"I owe you an apology," he started, but she still refused to look at him, so he stepped around in front of her, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I had no right to treat you the way I did. Everything you did for Ribisi; helping her clear out settlements, rescuing kidnapped settlers, and fighting off raid--"

"I know what Lily and I have done for the Commonwealth, Danse," she interrupted impatiently. "What's your point?"

"My point," he managed to keep his voice smooth and gentle, despite the urge to bite out a retort, "is that your actions spoke of your noble character, and I had no right to use your past to suggest otherwise. I-- I wish I could take that back. Can you-- _Will_ you forgive me?"

Danse searched her eyes as he waited for her to speak, dreading that she'd be unable or unwilling to forgive him, knowing what he was now. Why should she accept his apology? He was just a synth, after all. What would his regret for his actions really mean to her? Why would she care?

"Do you really mean that?" her tone suspicious but quietly casual.

He relaxed. "Every word," he promised.

"Then I accept your apology," she said evenly, as if the whole thing were no big deal, and she shifted around him to move on. But he knew better, and he sighed before turning to follow her again, shame and sorrow pressing on him like a lead coat.

It seemed his tirade had affected her to a greater extent than he'd originally thought, for he'd observed the way Olivia looked at him now. Her keen eyes saw him without really seeing him, almost as if she were looking through him like he was a ghost. It used to be different, before that stunt of his at the airport. Even when she had been angry with him, arguing with him over some differing opinion or berating him for some callous remark he'd made, her eyes had always flashed with vitality and passion. But now, there was no spark, and guilt ate at him.

_I would give anything to see her look at me again with that glimmer of fire in her eye._

It was his fault. He'd done this to her. If he'd just given her a chance to explain what he'd seen; if he'd continued to give her the benefit of the doubt, trusted her the way Ribisi did....

He had a lot of making up to do, and he wondered if Olivia would ever think of him as she had before.

Although, now that he his true identity had been revealed, maybe thinking of him as she had before was a bad idea. He'd always thought of himself as a good man, trying to cleanse the wasteland of the filth and give the people hope for a better future. He'd followed the rules, obeyed the protocols and regulations of his faction, believing that by being a good soldier he wouldn't make mistakes.

Now, as he contemplated what he was, he wondered if it had all just been a fool's dream.

_And me the fool._

If the Brotherhood's beliefs about all synths had been wrong - and he was definitely proof that they had been - then what else had they been wrong about? He had been unwilling to consider the arguments Lily had put forth before, that ghouls and synths posed no more of a danger than anyone else in the wasteland. But now that he'd been on the receiving end of threats and hatred for no other reason than his existence, Danse was a little more willing to listen. After all, he knew that as long as he was under his own power he would never choose to harm a brother or sister, or anyone that wasn't pointing a gun at his head. And if he could hold such a code of ethics, could not others of his kind do the same?

It slowly dawned on him as he trudged behind Olivia, that everything had changed. His whole life would be different now, and he'd have to find a new purpose to dedicate his life to. There would be no more Brotherhood agenda to reach for, no more missions to accomplish. All he'd known since being a junk collector - if he'd actually ever been one at all - was being a soldier, engaging in combat. Every skill he had revolved around that. What could he do with that?

He supposed there would always be jobs available as a mercenary, but the thought of killing people for caps was detestable. It was one thing to rid the world of the filth that plagued it, but assassinating innocents was beyond unforgivable and heartless, and would never be something he was willing to do.

Immediately, he recalled MacCready telling Lily about why he'd left the Gunners, and his respect for the sharpshooter deepened.

What else was there for an ex soldier to do?

He remembered a chunk of conversation from many months ago, when he'd first begun sponsoring Lily, where Olivia had mentioned she'd spent a bit of time as a caravan guard. Maybe he could do that? Or possibly be a hunter. People always needed meat, right?

Then again, if all else failed, he could go back to scrounging for junk and start up another stand. It seemed that Lily and the Minutemen were always in need of junk to build their settlements, and he'd been hauling around loads of it for the past few months, anyway. Hauling it for his livelihood wouldn't be much of a shift.

Danse groaned at the idea. The thought of carving out a new life was beyond frightening.

Could he do this? Could he do it alone? He knew Lily would be there to support him in whatever direction his life was about to take, but it was little comfort. Lily cared for him, but she had far too many responsibilities to put them on hold for him. There were too many people that depended on her, and it wasn't fair of him to take her attention away from them.

Besides, that's not who Danse wanted at his side for this, but it seemed his hope would not come to pass. Not if he couldn't change things between him and Olivia. He had to make her see that he was ready to change, and he was determined to make up for his past mistakes. Hopefully, she would be open to giving him the chance to prove it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Arthur sat on the edge of his bed in his quarters, staring at the floor by his bare feet. He was exhausted, his eyes as heavy as his heart. His only consolation in all this mess was that he hadn't needed to kill his best friend after all. But he'd never be able to see him again, or sit with him and have a drink, or play chess and discuss the things that plagued Arthur's mind.

Danse had been there for him since his early days at the Citadel. One of the very few people that had treated Arthur like a normal person instead of the last spawn of the holy seed of steel that everyone thought him to be. He'd seen the human boy, not the title. Danse had listened to him, had taken the time to get to know Arthur the person, not just future Elder Maxson. Danse had been an ally. A trusted soldier. A decent man. A true friend.

Sending out that execution order had been the hardest, most disgusting thing Arthur had ever had to do. He couldn't let the Brotherhood break apart after all the lives that had been lost piecing it back together. And he couldn't take the chance that someone would try to take his place, undo all the changes he'd made to make them better.

It was true that some things would never be able to be changed, but he'd done his best to accommodate them, while being a little less demanding. He went lax on some issues, where he could get away with it. Even when he wanted to change more, his hands were tied.

That was so with Danse.

Arthur honestly didn't give two shits that the man was a synth. He was still Danse, hardcore soldier and damned good friend. Arthur had trusted the man with his life for much longer than four years. That wouldn't change. But he couldn't say that. Couldn't show it. People would think him weak and unworthy to hold the title of elder. Who knew what the next elder would do to his people, if he failed to keep his role?

He'd had to pretend to be infuriated over the revelation, to spew vile hatred at the man when all he truly felt was heartbreak and misery.  He felt lost and alone, now that he had no one to turn to. Danse had always been there to share his burdens, and now that was gone, stolen away by the Institute. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Even Arthur had to answer to someone who could pluck him from his position and ruin every good thing he and Danse had accomplished over the past four years. He might never have the power to undo all the things he didn't believe in fully. He had to pick and choose his battles carefully, and sometimes that required him to make sacrifices that he'd rather not make.

He'd been stuck, forced to carry out a sentence that he had no heart to decree. He wasn't sure how long he could have lived with that on his conscience.

Due to Lily's past actions, Arthur had been confident Lily would try to save Danse - that's why he'd chosen her for the job, though obviously he couldn't tell anyone that. If it had been anyone else under that order, Danse would likely be dead right now.

Thank God for Lily and her friends. Danse's friends.

They had given both men a way out of the nightmare. It wouldn't bring Danse back to him, but at least Arthur would know that his friend was out there, helping, fighting the Institute and trying to make the wasteland safer. Alive, breathing, maybe even enjoying life once this was over.

Arthur could live with that.

 


	13. A Home Among Strangers

 

Lily had been General of the Minutemen for all of one week when she and Olivia had cleared out Sunshine Tidings and solved its radroach and feral problem. Lily had thought it would make a fine settlement, but Olivia had seen its potential for another use.

At that time, no one had brought up the idea of taking back the Castle from the mirelurks and cleaning the place up, so when they happened upon Sunshine and Olivia pondered the size of the place, she suggested Lily turn it into a Minutemen post. Taking Olivia's idea to heart, Lily had Preston Garvey and some of the militiamen tear down the cabins and silos, and erect a wall around the perimeter. The two warehouses were then cleaned out and turned into a mess hall and a bunkhouse, and since then the place had grown.

As Olivia led Danse through the large gates, she noticed that several smaller buildings had been constructed up the hill overlooking the training yard, and a small garden was sown into the soft dirt near the mess hall. They had even cordoned off a section for target practice, and a few people were there now, popping shots off at some tin cans that sat neatly atop a long board set up on cement blocks.

A tall man with an athletic build stood at the corner of the bunkhouse watching the shooters, and their approach caught his attention. When he saw them he turned their way and smiled, moving in their direction.

"You must be Olivia Grimaldi." He removed his hat with his free hand to reveal dark blond hair plastered against his skull from sweat, and the motion caused her eyes to catch the Minutemen arm band that was proudly displayed against the lighter beige of his short-waisted coat. "You're a bit of a legend around here," he grinned.

"Sergeant Worly, I presume?" Olivia's gaze scanned over him in appreciation, and she immediately noted his whiskey colored eyes, taut muscular frame and friendly smile as he greeted her. She guessed him to be in his early thirties, and a former soldier, if his controlled and confident movements were anything to go by.

"Oh, right!" He chuckled again, a smooth sound that came from deep in his chest, and Olivia's stomach did a little flip. "Sorry about that. Yeah, I'm Worly, but you can call me Dayle." He looked over at Danse and offered his hand, which the ex paladin hesitantly took. "Which means you're Danse...er...Major Danse. My apologies, Sir. The General sent a messenger yesterday with orders that you're going to be our post commander."

Apparently Lily had neglected to share that bit of news with Danse, because Olivia saw his dark eyes widen in shock and his jaw dropped enough to make his lips crack open in surprise.

"I-- I think you must be mistaken," Danse uttered.

"No, Sir," Worly assured him. "I read her letter three times and it was crystal clear that you were going to be training all the new recruits. She's handed over all the post decisions and responsibilities to you, Major. You only answer to Colonel Garvey or the General herself."

Olivia smirked. "I bet Shaw didn't take that bit of news quietly."

Worly grinned back and his eyes twinkled. "Way I heard it, she protested so loud a squad clearing out another nest of ferals at Four Leaf heard her objections."

 _Serves the crotchety old broad right_ , after the snotty way she'd treated Lily and the attitude she'd displayed with Olivia when they'd met her at the Castle. Olivia had offered to teach the old witch some manners, but Lily had just smiled like it didn't faze her a bit. It was just after the artillery test that Lily informed Shaw she could be Watch Captain at the Castle. Of course, Shaw threw a fit, complaining that she deserved a higher rank for her prior years of service, going on and on until Lily told her if she didn't like it she could hit the road.

Olivia chuckled. That had been pretty funny to watch.

"Does this place have a bar?" Olivia asked, and Worly glanced at Danse before nodding and pointing at the mess hall.

"Inside. They don't sell anything but beer, though."

"That'll do," and she turned away without looking back, but she heard Worly offer to show Danse to his new quarters and she disappeared inside.

The barman didn't offer a greeting when she stepped up to the counter, just eyed her in irritation and grumbled, "What do you want?"

She ignored the man's tone. "Gwinnett Ale."

He reached below the counter and retrieved a bottle, putting it down heavily in front of her. "Five caps."

She left the caps on the counter and took her drink to a table away from the bar, facing the closest door, and dropped into a chair.

Lily had asked her to stick around Sunshine for a few days - implying that Danse might need a familiar face while he settled in there after the unexpected shock he'd been through. She'd reluctantly agreed to stay, but had no intention of being around him more than necessary. Once that was over, she planned on getting the hell out of there and leaving the Commonwealth for good. Maybe she'd head to Nuka World; Lily had received a radio transmission from there but hadn't had time yet to check it out. If she found something worthwhile there, she could always send back word to Lily and let her know.

However, Olivia's skeptical and untrusting nature had her rethinking her plan to depart.

Maxson may have made a show of agreeing to Lily's terms and revoked the death order, but Olivia still didn't trust the man as far as she could throw him. One little misstep or misunderstanding and Maxson might change his mind and go after either of them. Lily had the Minutemen to back her, along with MacCready, Piper, Nick, and Deacon. She would probably be able to escape, if needed. But Danse? Who did he have in his corner, besides Lily?

Olivia took a swig of beer and let it slide down her throat.

Between running errands for settlers, organizing the Minutemen, doing missions for the Brotherhood and the Railroad, and this business with the Institute, Lily would be far too busy - and likely too far away - to come to Danse's aid if he needed it. Danse may have stomped on Olivia's heart with the hatred he'd spewed at her, but that didn't mean he deserved to die, or be left alone to deal with all this. As much as it pained her to be near him, she knew there was no one else but her to watch his back.

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered what this would mean.

It would mean ignoring the heartache of seeing him every day and knowing he didn't really care for her.

Yes, he had apologized for what he'd said to her. Unfortunately, she was pretty certain the reason behind the expression of regret was simply due to the fact that he felt like a hypocrite, now that his true origins had been exposed. If he'd never learned the truth about himself, he never would have changed his attitude about synths, nor his mind about her.

It wasn't that she blamed him for the beliefs he held, but the fact that he didn't seem willing to test those beliefs and come to his own conclusion if they were right or wrong. He stubbornly held onto them because the Brotherhood had told him to, and instead of giving her the chance to tell him about her past and why she'd come east, he'd cut her off and out of his life.

At least he now seemed willing to think for himself.

The bottom of the Gwinnett bottle thumped emptily on the plastic top of the table and she sat staring into the dark glass as if it were one of those prewar crystal balls, wishing it could allow her a glimpse into the future. Would staying be a grave mistake? Would it cost her dearly if she put herself through hell to assure Danse's safety? If she left, would she regret walking away and leaving him to defend himself?

Olivia cursed and rose from her seat to drop the drained container into a trash bin. Just as it clinked into previously discarded trash of like material, Sergeant Worly stepped inside the mess hall.

"If you're done here, I've got a letter for you from the General," he said.

Olivia thought that was strange, considering they'd just seen one another at the bunker and Lily hadn't said a word to her, but she followed the sergeant to the main office where he handed her a folded piece of paper and left her alone to read it.

_Ollie,_   
_I hate to ask more from you, after all you've done for me, but I still need your help. Well, Danse needs your help. He needs someone to be there for him during this time of terrible change, and as much as I would like to be there, I can't be the one to do it. Of course, he'll tell you that he doesn't need you and that he can handle it alone, but I'm sure you know as well as I do that it's bullshit. He is nothing, if not the most obstinate  man I've ever met. Please, PLEASE stay with him. I'm not asking you to join the Minutemen, but I will see that you're compensated for watching out for him (I hope 200 caps a week is sufficient, but it's negotiable.) If not for him, then do it for me. I'll see you soon._   
_Lily_

Three things jumped out at Olivia and sent bolts of annoyance through her as she refolded the letter.

One; It seemed that the vault dweller had already made plans before Olivia had seen her at the bunker. Which meant that all that talk of getting Danse out of the Commonwealth and away from Maxson had been just that. Talk. Lily must have know Maxson would follow her to Listening Post Bravo, and meant to confront him. And Olivia had been her backup plan to get away, if a deal couldn't be made. The thought of such a devious calculation on Lily's part both impressed Olivia, and pissed her off. She didn't appreciate being put in such a position without knowing ahead of time the costs if she failed.

Two; Lily obviously didn't know Olivia as well as she thought, if she suspected that Olivia would only protect Danse for caps. That was MacCready's style, not Olivia's (no offense to Mac, of course). Though come to think of it, she'd likely need those caps once it was safe enough for her to move on. Maybe Mac had the right idea, after all.

And three; Lily didn't know about the confrontation between Olivia and Danse the night she'd relayed to the Institute - he obviously hadn't told her when she wrote this letter -  so Lily had no idea that asking her to stay was asking for far more than just a little favor. It was asking her to face her heartbreak every day and pretend she was all right doing it. The was one hell of a favor.

Well, what was done was done, and it seemed that she and Lily had the same concerns about Danse, anyway, so there was no point in remaining angry. She might as well find Worly and let him know she'd need a bunk of her own, since it seemed that she'd be staying for as long as she was needed.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
Danse stepped into the little cabin Worly had pointed him to and looked around. It was larger than his old quarters on the Prydwen, with a little kitchen area - complete with a small table and two chairs. The bedroom area had a separator screen, a double bed and a small dresser. There was a little sitting area by the front door, and his very own bathroom at the back of the building.

It awed him that Lily would not only consider him worthy of such a place, but that she would trust him enough to hand him such responsibility of her people after learning the truth about him.

He knew how deeply she cared about the people of the Commonwealth, and especially those that chose to volunteer their lives to help her change the wasteland for the better. The Minutemen were special to her, and she fought hard to give them the supplies and training they would need to make their lives safer and more easily take on their enemies.

Danse vowed to do everything in his power to make certain he gave the best of himself for Lily and her cause.

He dropped his small pack of belongings on the floor by his bed and stretched out on it, pleasantly surprised by the cushy feel of it as he sank down, thinking.

He had already gone over the letter she'd sent for him numerous times, and wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the new title she'd given him.

Major. It had a nice sound to it.

Lily - or rather, General Ribisi, as he'd refer to her now - had given him the duty of setting up a training regimen for the new volunteers and recruits. Something that would make the best use of the short time they would have to learn the skills they would need to become more effective fighters. Since most of them were farmers, they would little time in between crop seasons to train, so he would have to design the course to incorporate that, and he already had some ideas.

He knew his own strengths lay in the areas of hand to hand and tactical operations, but sneaking skills and sharpshooting had never been his finer assets. His talent was in full frontal assaults, and he knew that he would need to find people who could pass on the skills he lacked.

The Minutemen would likely never be as well organized, well supplied, or well trained as the Brotherhood of Steel, but Danse decided that he was going to do his damnedest to make certain they could hold their own against the scum of the Commonwealth. It wouldn't hurt to set up squads in a similar fashion as the Brotherhood; with a demolition expert, a sharpshooter or two, a medic and such.

He'd need to find someone with medical training to teach them, and someone with excellent skills with weapons. Maybe Lily could bring in some of her sources to fill those roles, and he made a mental note to ask her about it the next time they spoke.

Now, if he could talk Olivia into sticking around, maybe adjusting to a new life wouldn't be so bad after all.

 


	14. Pursuit

 

Danse fidgeted in the bathroom mirror as he prepared for his first day as Major of the Commonwealth Minutemen. The blue button up shirt he'd bought from the clothing shop was a bit tight across the shoulders and around his biceps, but it was all they had and he'd have to make due until the provisioner brought in more supplies. He was glad his old fatigue pants were still fairly clean, and he slipped the tactical holster around his waist and buckled the belts around his thigh before pulling on a shoulder rig with extra ammo pockets.

He stepped out into the morning sunshine and followed the path down the hill to the empty patch of ground by the warehouse where Worly was waiting.

"Morning, Major," the sergeant greeted with a smart pre-war salute, and Danse briefly wondered where the man had learned it from.

Sergeant," Danse saluted in return and looked around. "Are there any trainees awake yet?" His voice clearly portrayed his annoyance that the yard was void of people to train.

"They're awake," Olivia said as she approached from behind him, and he turned toward her. "They're all in the mess hall stuffing their faces." She pointed to his right arm. "You're missing something."

His eyebrows scrunched and he looked down at his bicep. "What?"

She pulled a bandana from her back pocket and stepped close. "The Major of the Minutemen can't go around sans Minutemen emblem."

He watched her face as she tied the material around his arm, and his breath caught when her eyes flicked up to meet his. She smiled at him and let her hand brush over his chest and up his neck to press her palm to his cheek. His eyes slid closed as he committed the feel of her warm hand to memory, noting the semi-rough texture of the little callouses on her skin from all her years of physical labor and weapons use. He took a deep shuddering breath before opening his eyes to study her face.

The rays from the sun glinted against her skin and flames danced in the depths of her eyes, causing his heartbeat to quicken as she moved closer, pressing herself into him and lifting her chin. The intimate display of attraction was embarrassing, and he considered stepping back or telling Worly to take a hike, but he didn't want to let this opportunity slip through his fingers, so he ignored both.

"You're so beautiful," he heard himself admitting to her, praying it wouldn't scare her away.

"I need you, Danse" she said, her voice whisper soft and full of honey. "Kiss me."

He wanted nothing more than to give her what she asked for, and his head dipped lower as he moved to press his lips to hers, his eyes slipping shut.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Danse!" someone called from far away, and he froze mid kiss.

 _Goddamnit._ Couldn't they have waited to interrupt him until after he'd kissed Olivia?

"Major Danse! There's a Raider attack at Abernathy! We've got to go!"

Danse's eyes ripped open as he bolted upright, sweat dripping down his bare chest and his lungs gulping for air.

"Major!" Worly called from the other side of his cabin door.

_Figures. Just a dream._

"Yeah, I'm coming!" he shouted as he shook his head.

Disappointment chilled him as he scooted from the sheets and reached for his clothes, and a minute later he was rushing out the door, gun in hand.  
  
  

 

* * *

 

 

  
Danse led his small band of Minutemen - and Olivia, because she'd refused to pass up the chance to take out raiders - up the hill to the west of the Abernathy farm, using the trees for some cover. It added a minute to the rescue, but it was smarter than just rushing up the south hill out in the open and getting his men killed. Olivia was at the front of the line next to Sergeant Worly, just behind Danse. He knew it without having to look because he could sense her presence, just as he'd been able to do since the day they'd met.

In truth, Danse was glad she was there, because having strangers at his back made him extremely uncomfortable and he wasn't even certain they could handle going up against the near dozen raiders that were ahead of them. They might just get everyone killed. At least with Olivia there, he knew there was one person he could rely on to the get the job done.

The Abernathy's were doing their best to keep the raiders away from the door when they reached the edge of the woods. The raiders had demolished the turrets General Ribisi had given them, and were inching closer.

Danse didn't want to send his men out there to get picked off before they even reached the raiders. It was probably better to even the odds a little before rushing them.

"Sergeant, who are the two best marksmen here?"

"Myself and Private Linman."

He eyed their weapons, noting that both carried rifles. "Perfect. Linman, you take the left side, and Worly on the right. You'll have about five seconds to pick off as many as you can from here, until we have to move."

"Yes, Sir," the men replied in unison.

"Olivia, would you care to have the middle?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she said, and he could hear the smile of eagerness in her voice, and the corner of his mouth quirked at knowing he'd been right; Olivia would never let him down in a fight.

"Then let 'em have it," he ordered, and the rifles went off in succession.

Three raiders instantly hit the dirt, and two more immediately joined them before the remaining attackers located who was shooting at them and bolted for cover or heading straight for them.

_Time to move._

Danse led the Minutemen out of the trees and collided with the first raider he could reach, sending the man flying backwards into the dirt. He shot the man before the raider could recover from the fall and moved on to the next. A raider lunged at him from his left side and he twisted to block the attack, but Olivia beat him to it, smashing the raider in his face with the plated barrel of her rifle before shoving her combat knife through the raider's stomach.

Within minutes the Abernathy Farm was littered with the bodies of dead raiders, and it was over. The Brahmin in the pen had been killed, and a cat yowling in fear or pain, or both, cried from under the porch when a woman opened the red door of the enclosed tower and gingerly stepped outside.

"Is it safe now?" she asked.

"Affirmative," Danse replied.

"I recognize you," she told him. "You're that Brotherhood soldier that travels with the General. Danse, right?"

A myriad of feelings washed over him and his voice faltered when spoke.

"I'm no longer a part of that order, but yes, I'm Danse. General Ribisi has appointed me to oversee the Minuteman training at Sunshine Tidings."

One of the minutemen walked up to him and nodded to her. "Pardon the interruption, Major, but what do you want us to do with the bodies?"

He excused himself and moved off to direct the men in that task, before taking a look at the broken turrets to see if he could at least get them up and running enough to provide a bit of extra protection.

Danse was fully aware that Olivia was speaking to the Abernathy's while Sergeant Worly gave Blake Abernathy some first aid to fix up a bullet wound. He watched her - nonchalantly, he hoped - as she assured the settlers that the Minutemen would be looking into where the raiders had come from and root them out. He probably would have been a little cross that she took initiative on that, but he was too busy glowering at the way Worly was staring at her in clear fascination.

Not that he could blame the man. It was hard not to be impressed by Olivia, and frankly Danse wouldn't be surprised to find the she had a gaggle of admirers touting her praises and clamoring to be near her.

It wasn't the fact that Worly was impressed by her skills that had Danse aching to go over there, but the way Worly's gaze drifted over Olivia's body in the same manner he'd witnessed from her the day before. He'd said nothing, of course. What right did he have to be upset over who she was interested in? He'd pushed her away, and apparently right into the arms of other men.

Now that he thought about it, he'd never actually made it clear that he was interested in her. He should probably scrounge up the courage to do that, before he lost the chance forever.

He should do it as soon as they got back to Sunshine. There was no point waiting any longer. He wasn't going to miraculously become a human again, and his life wasn't going to magically become easier to handle. If anything, it was likely to become a lot more difficult, especially after he revealed his identity to people.

Part of him wanted to keep that shame a secret, but the men and women who chose to put their lives in his hands deserved to know who they were trusting. Doing so might make things all the more complicated, both for himself and for General Ribisi - and on that note, the Commonwealth as well, because without men, the General couldn't protect the people.

 _Tonight, then.  
_ _  
_ _  
_ __  



	15. What Matters Most

 

The chance to tell Olivia how he felt had never presented itself. By the time the Minutemen had finished at the Abernathy Farm and made it back to Sunshine, General Ribisi had sent a message over Radio Freedom ordering him to bring as many men with him as he could and meet her in the courtyard of the C.I.T.

He'd arrived with thirty-seven militiamen, to find a large force of Brotherhood soldiers already on site, and went into high alert after receiving a handful of unfriendly glares. He found the General standing near Elder Maxson, but didn't approach until she waved him over.

"Danse! I was worried you wouldn't get my message," she told him.

He gave her a fast rundown of what had occurred at Abernathy and glanced at the man next to her before asking what was going on.

"It's time, Danse. Liberty Prime is ready and we're going to end the Institute once and for all. Are your men ready?"

He nodded. "They will be as soon as I speak to them."

"Let my men take on the heavy fire," Maxson ordered. "The Minutemen aren't equipped with the armor to resist that kind of damage."

"Of course," Danse replied. "Is there a particular formation you'd like us in?"

"No. Just keep together and see that everyone makes it out. I want the least amount of allied casualties as we can get."

"Yes, Sir," he agreed and turned to go.

"One last thing, Major," the elder called out and he turned. "My men have been informed that you are not an enemy of the Brotherhood. I expect you to conduct yourself in such manner that proves it."

Anger heated Danse's cheeks and he ground his teeth in agitation. The fact that Arthur felt the need to warn him not to act hostile towards the men and women he'd called family just mere days earlier was simply insulting.

"As long as no one threatens my life, they have nothing to worry about. I would suggest that everyone keep their focus on the real danger, and not waste time with concern over me," he growled, and Ribisi tensed. "General, if I may attend my men now."

"Go ahead, Major," she said, and he marched back to his group in a ground-eating stride.

In the half hour it took for Liberty Prime to make its way from the airport to the university, Danse had already briefed his men, given them pointers for the combat ahead, and shifted around the field nervously, waiting for the operation to begin.

Being nervous before a battle wasn't a new experience for him, but this one had that added stress of fighting shoulder to shoulder next to the very people he'd fought side by side with for the last decade of his life. People that now knew what he was, and hated him for it.

Or at least, he'd thought they would.

Most of them seemed to still consider him to be worthy of at least a nod of acknowledgement, or a pat on the shoulder. He'd even heard a few murmurs of "Glad to see you, Sir" and "Hey, Paladin" as he moved silently through the ranks, and even received a couple salutes. It made him wonder if many Brotherhood soldiers truly believed in the strict views on synths, or if they'd merely obeyed and couldn't really care one way or the other. How could they even look at him after learning of his true identity?

He spotted Olivia with Ribisi and Maxson, and he wondered what she was doing there. She couldn't seriously be planning on fighting, could she? This was Minutemen and Brotherhood business. He didn't care that she was an experienced and talented fighter, Danse didn't want her anywhere near these Institute bastards. They had already screwed up his life enough the way it was, but if anything happened to Olivia.....

He pushed his way toward her and pulled her off to the side.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Well, gee, Danse," she pulled her elbow from his grasp, "Thanks for the vote of support."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

A pained look crossed her face. "It's a bit too late for that," and she started to turn away.

"Olivia, please," he reached out again, this time pulling her back to him so that she bumped into his chest. "I may not make it out of there alive, and if that is the case, so be it. But if I do, I don't want to come back out here and find that you are no longer in it."

Her body stiffened and she looked at him suspiciously. "What are you saying?"

Danse swallowed hard.

_It's now or never. Stop being a coward and just tell her!_

"Olivia, I lo--"

Civil Liberty - that was the name he'd given the laser rifle Olivia had presented him at Christmas - was in a death grip in his hand when the first wave of Gen 2's zapped into the CIT courtyard in blinding flashes of light, interrupting his confession, and everyone bolted into action.

Danse saw Arthur leading the General and a small formation off to the left side of the complex, so he tore off to the right, headed straight at a group of synths using the scaffolding up on the second level and aiming his laser rifle at their heads. He took down two as more flashes of light burst across the lawn, and more synths began to fire back at their attackers.

It didn't take too long to eliminate them, the Brotherhood and Minutemen forces sustaining only a few minor injuries - nothing that would keep anyone from continuing to battle. Liberty Prime cut a hole into the earth and blew out a section of an underground building, and Danse heard Elder Maxson order his troops to follow, Ribisi on his heels.

Already separated from his group, Danse knew there was no turning back, and he dropped down inside soon after, four power-armored Knights and three Paladins at his back; Worly would make sure the militiamen made it inside, and he'd rejoin them as soon as he could. They ran through the tunnels to keep up with the lead attack force, and came out into some sort of lab. Everything was bright white and crisply polished. He'd never seen anything so clean.

Well, technically that wasn't true. He'd obviously been here before, when he was still M7-97, but he didn't remember it.

_Thank God._

A voice came over an intercom system of some kind, and the feminine robotic-sound made him shudder.

"Initializing Protocol X8-A1 Zenith, in T-minus 5 minutes and 30 seconds."

A couple of the Knights just in front of him looked at each other and one said, "X8 what?"

"Something zenith," the other said.

"What the hell is that?"

The other shrugged, "How the hell should I know?"

Danse was following close behind them as they passed into a larger, circular room when he heard a gruff voice say, "Why don't you ask the traitorous synth?"

He inwardly flinched at the comment that was clearly directed at him, his heart buckling. But he kept silent, putting one foot in front of the other. It took him by surprise when one of the other Knights growled over his shoulder, "Shut the fuck up, Neelan."

 _Ah...Neelan_. That made sense. The man had never liked Danse, and always tossed insults behind his back. He hadn't had the courage to do it to Danse's face back then, but since his banishment, Neelan had the upper hand. If Danse tried to defend himself, he would be shot without question, so he just had to take it.

_Suck it up and push on, soldier._

They went through a short hallway and poured into an atrium that had water pooling under the floor. He would have been in awe, but there was no time so stop and examine more, because as soon as they approached the center column that looked to be made of glass, synths and coursers poured in and started blasting their laser pistols.

Maxson's gatling laser went off somewhere to the left of him. He could hear the prrrrrrrt prrrrrrrt sounds as steady beams of red laser fire chewed through a trio of plastic skeletal men. He lifted his own rifle and took shot after shot at every synth he could see, and had moved closer to the center when he heard Olivia's .45-70 go off a few feet behind him to his right. He glanced back to see what direction she was aiming in and followed her line of sight to an upper balcony where a synth was firing at them. Her second shot went dead center through what could be termed its forehead, and it hit the floor in a lump.

More blue laser fire came shooting past his head as another courser attempted to halt their progress. Brotherhood soldiers were stomping past him and Danse took the chance to use their movement as a distraction, rushing forward to fire at the enemy. It disappeared and someone nearby cursed.

"Fuck. It's got a stealth boy!"

Danse's eyes scanned the area for the telltale shimmering haze, trying to zero in on the thing before it started firing again. A white hot punch to his shoulder knocked him back and he scrambled to keep his footing. He could smell the burnt material of his shirt and the singed flesh of his wound as he pushed himself to face his attacker, but he wasn't fast enough to lift his rifle and take a shot.

"Look out!"

Olivia's voice screamed above the cacophony of sounds and he could hear the panic of her tone just before a blue beam came flying at him in what seemed like slow motion. Ridiculous, since he'd never taken Buffout a day in his life. And then the blue light vanished, blocked out by the body that was suddenly in front of him that took the direct hit.

He was frozen as he watched in horror, Knights rushing from around him to swarm the courser, as Olivia's rifle clattered to the floor and her body began to drop.

"Olivia!"

Danse threw himself forward and caught her in his arms, the air forced from his lungs as his back hit the floor, taking both their weight. He sat up, pulling her into his lap to check her over, and his heart stopped. Her face was ashen, a burn the size of a plate scorched the entire front of her chest, blackened flesh and blood visible under the burnt edges of the fabric.

"No!" _  
_

_No no no no, oh God...please._ Please don't let her be dead.

"Olivia?" His voice was raspy when he choked out her name. His fingers went to her neck to check for a pulse and he was startled when a Brotherhood soldier squatted down next to him and handed him a stimpak. There was a faint pulse, but it did nothing to ease his alarm. It was far too faint to be a good sign.

"You should get behind something, Paladin," the young man said. "Getting yourself killed won't save her."

Then he was alone with her again, shoving the stimpak into her chest near her heart and praying it would take before her heartbeat stopped for good. Once it was empty, he tossed it aside and pulled her behind a railing, cradling her in his lap, brushing loose strands of hair from her face.

He pressed his fingers to her neck again, but felt nothing. Not even the vaguest of flutters.

His eyes burned and his lungs didn't seem to want to take in oxygen. He felt as if Liberty Prime had picked him up and was squeezing the life out of him breath by breath. He cursed himself for letting this happen, for every wasted moment he'd spent slurring her and then pushing her away to avoid seeing the truth. He'd let this happen. It was all his fault. His, and the Institute.

Tears fell in steady trickles down his cheeks, dripping onto her shirt and leaving wet rings.

They had started this, the lab-coated assholes; creating him to use as a slave, programming him to obey their commands like a trained animal. They had tried to use his life before, and they'd taken it from him by way of his identity reveal. These savages claiming to be good-hearted scientists were the culprits of all the death and loss, pain and fear that had plagued the wasteland for years. They had created the monsters and stolen his friends, and now they had taken the one person who had truly understood the depths of guilt and regret he suffered every day. The one person who had risked her life to save him - not out of duty or guilt, but because she had believed in him.

What hope did he have now, of building a life after the destruction they'd caused? Well no more! These bastards weren't going to hurt anyone else ever again.

Danse moved Olivia's limp form off his lap and rose to his feet. Grabbing Civil Liberty, he rushed into the mass of flashing blue and red beams of laser light, heedless everything except the unspoken compulsion that pushed him deeper into the battle with every enemy he killed.

He was going to make sure every last one of them paid with their lives, or die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for Part One, you guys! I hope you liked it and it left you wanting for more. 
> 
> What will happen to Danse next? Will he find a way to cope with Olivia's loss, or will it destroy him? Will he find another love, or was she the once in a lifetime love that can't be replaced? 
> 
> And what's next for Arthur and Lily? Will their factions continue working together, or will they butt heads and go to war? 
> 
> Find out in Part Two...


	16. Part Two: Bitch Slap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6+ months after defeating the Institute

 

The Commonwealth hadn't changed much since the Brotherhood and the Minutemen had snuffed out the Institute - to put it delicately. The buildings were still rusty and broken down, the city was still cramped, and roads were still dangerous. Guards still eyed everyone with caution, and settlements were still attacked. Even in Diamond City, things weren't much different. The folk were still wary, the business still booming, and Myrna was still a horrendous bitch.

And yet, there had been some very optimistic changes to consider.

People no longer walked around in fear of the Institute or its synths. Occasionally there were still attacks from Gen 1's and 2's, but they were few and far between now. Proctor Ingram's best guess was some sort of ghosting in their programming that had delayed their teleporting when the Institute had exploded, but of course, no one could be sure why they continued to appear randomly months after the incident.

Other changes had improved life as well, and these gave Lily more hope for the future than even blasting that enormous crater in Cambridge had done. And it was all thanks to her friends, her fellow man. And Arthur.

The Minutemen were shaping up to be quite the ally for Arthur's Brotherhood, mostly because of Danse, and Lily was proud of the changes they'd made in order to improve the Commonwealth for the people. Arthur had even gone so far as to station a few of his soldiers at her settlements to act as additional protectors against the many dangers that still roamed the wastes. He was impressed with their work, and content with their arrangement. So impressed, in fact, that he'd moved his own HQ - with a small detachment - down to Fort Strong as a sign of good faith to the people that he didn't intend on abandoning them before the work was done.

She was learning that under all the protocol and Brotherhood conventions, Arthur truly was a great man.

He had secretly revealed to her that the order he'd given her to murder Danse had been for show, explaining the dilemma between his personal belief and the duty of his rank. She hadn't understood until then, how fragile his position truly was, as he'd always seemed so in control of everything he did and decreed. Now that she knew differently, Lily realized that there was far more to Arthur than the man everyone else saw.

After that day, she couldn't help herself. She had fallen for Arthur during their fight against the Institute, and since it's annihilation, she'd fallen even harder with each new and virtuous step he took to make a difference in the world around them. 

He had even repealed Danse's sentence, so far as banishment from the bases and communication with its soldiers went. There was no way he could let Danse re-enlist into the Brotherhood, but that didn't mean that 'Major Danse of the Commonwealth Minutemen' couldn't meet him at the HQ for a game of chess and a shared bottle of Brandy, or join the Brotherhood troops while training their forces in a joint exercise. He just had to be careful how far he let the boundaries fall.

She was glad to see that both men were evolving, and coming to terms with the way things were. Currently, Danse was overseeing all the initiate training at Sunshine Tidings, not just for the Minutemen, but for the Brotherhood as well.

Since Arthur had begun making changes to his faction, people had begun to see the Brotherhood differently, and more were showing interest in joining him - the numbers weren't staggering, but it was still early - and who better to train them than Arthur's favorite ex paladin?

For her faction, Lily had taken on full duty as the Minutemen General. She had even decided to make a permanent move closer to the Castle, and she'd built a small cabin out on the little pond next to it. She had resigned from the Brotherhood and spent most of her days "supervising the supervisors", as Garvey liked to say.

Her job wasn't nearly as stressful as what she imagined Arthur had to go through, as the Minutemen council - made up of Lily, Col. Garvey, Capt. Shaw, Maj. Danse, Lieutenant Patrick Durgan -the radio freedom head tech, and Sergeant Barry Watts - their weapons specialist - had delegated most of the responsibilities so that no one person carried too much.

Garvey had requested to stay at Sanctuary, where he directed all the settlement interaction and agreements with the Brotherhood's new quartermaster. Shaw remained at the Castle with Lily, where she helped recruit militia and operate the Castle defenses. Patrick ran all of the communications between all their bases, and kept everyone informed of any changes, as well as sending out squads to help the settlements. Barry had quarters there as well, but he was often out and about the wasteland acquiring more guns and ammunition.

Worly had shown himself to be an irreplaceable asset to their force during the battle of the Institute, and Lily had promoted him to Lieutenant. He'd then informed her of his previous enlistment with the Mojave Chapter of the Brotherhood and why he'd left. It only solidified her decision to keep him on as Danse's second in command of Sunshine.

So far, she was quite pleased with the steps everyone had made, and she walked with her head held high.

They had just finished an 'all hands on deck' council meeting the prior afternoon, and she and Danse headed back to Sunshine. Lily hadn't been there in a while and was excited to see the improvements he'd made to the camp, and talk with the trainees about how things were going. By the time they reached the main gate of D.C. it was late, so they'd stayed the night at the Dugout.

They'd finished a quick breakfast just a bit after the shops opened and were now making their way past the Super Salon to see Arturo about some more ammo for the marksman training. The rookies always blew through ammo like it grew on trees, and she'd been able to secure a large discount from Arturo to help keep them in stock.

Lily glanced over at Danse, thinking how lucky she was to be able to call him 'friend'. How proud of him she was, after all he'd overcome.

She had been considerably worried about him for a few months just after the battle over the Institute. He'd withdrawn and refused to get involved with anything while he worked through the staggering pain of losing Olivia. It had been a jolt to them all, but...

Poor Danse had been backhanded by the Institute once again, and it had taken him a bit to recover.

It was Arthur who had finally broken through to him, reminding him that Olivia had given her life to make sure that he lived, and there he was abusing it, her sacrifice wasted. Danse had come to Lily the very next day with ideas on how to improve the militia. He wanted to make Olivia's sacrifice mean something and carry on her fight to help the innocent. He didn't even hesitate at helping synths any more - though the ghouls were going to take a bit longer, it seemed. But he was trying, and his efforts were visible proof he was changing.

He still hadn't fully emerged from the careful shell of protection he'd surrounded himself with, his demeanor still reticent and restrained, but every once in a while Lily could see his walls chip away just a little bit more. He and Worly seemed to work well as a team and even form a friendly bond, and he of course still had Arthur.

Watching him as she was, her feet stopped when he halted abruptly, the expression on his face transforming from a mildly curious glances around him into one of startled puzzlement. Lily's eyes followed his, and the smile she'd been wearing drooped in her own state of bewilderment.

A woman stood at the end of Arturo's counter, leaning on her elbows as she talked with the proprietor, discussing something that had them both too occupied to notice anyone's approach.

The woman was tall and toned, her hair worn in a short, angular cropped style, the brown tresses highlighted in the morning sunshine with a few lighter strands twisting through the wavy mass, which covered most of the silhouette of her face and blocked her eyes. The hem of her dark olive t-shirt ran midway down the hip of her dark denim covered legs that tucked into her brown boots. She wore a few pieces of leather armor; sturdy leather pauldrons and vambraces on each arm, and a leather arm band around her left bicep.

She looked familiar. _Very familiar._

Lily's stomach clinched.

...

...

...

"O--.... Olivia?" she heard Danse's voice choke next to her.

The woman's body stiffened at his call and her head slowly turned toward them before she pushed unhurriedly away from the counter to face them, and Lily's breath caught as she reached out to grasp Danse's forearm, more to provide him mental support than to keep herself from falling over from shock.

"Holy shit," was all Lily could manage to croak out.

There was no mistaking it now. This woman, despite the drastic changes to her appearance, was the woman they had believed to be gone. Breathing, walking, talking, very much alive, Olivia Grimaldi.

Danse's brows were knit in confusion, his face twisting between astonishment, hope and the pain of remembrance, and confusion, as the woman walked closer to stop a couple yards away.

"I--I thought you were dead," his voice strangled.

"Not yet.....," her voice was strange, tainted with bitterness. "No thanks to you." 

The frosty shine in her eyes as she looked at Danse had Lily worried.

"How did you get out of the Institute?" Lily asked, wanting Olivia's attention on her to save Danse from having to stand under that unfriendly gaze. He'd already beaten himself up over her loss, and to find that she was truly there but wasn't happy to see him...

It would likely tear him in two, yet again.

Olivia just looked at Lily, as if she was feeling nothing more than a passing annoyance.

"Deacon, actually," she replied indifferently. "He heard about the impending attack on the Institute and disguised himself as a Minuteman to join in." Her eyes floated back over to Danse where she finished with a hard look. "He found me where _you_ left me to die in that hole. Got me out and took me to someone who patched me up."

Lily could hear it now, that low flame of anger that would slowly build into a bright rage, and she feared what Olivia might do.

If she attacked Danse, it wasn't likely that he'd fight back now. The guilt that still ate at him was far too heavy to stop her from inflicting whatever punishment she wanted to dole out. And he would likely believe he deserved it. If she took out that combat knife that she always carried and moved to shove it straight through his heart, he'd most likely stand there like a statue and let her.

His lips trembled as he tried to apologize. "I'm so sorry, Oli--"

"You don't get to say you're sorry!" she hissed in a cold snarl. "You _left_ me there, Danse. After everything I did for you, you gave up on me and walked away!"

Danse flinched at the animosity in her voice, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears that threatened to spill over.

"That's not true," he whimpered and began to shake with roiling emotions he was unequipped to handle.

Olivia was glaring at him now. "Liar," she spit accusingly. "Deacon saw you leave me there and run off."

Lily stepped in to defend her friend and colleague. "Danse tried to save you, Ollie. He truly thought you were gone!"

Olivia's green eyes held nothing but contempt as she stared at the man she'd once cared so deeply for. "We're done here," she said and started past them.

Whether it was intentional or purely done on instinct, Danse reached out and his strong fingers folded in supplication around Olivia's bare right bicep.

"Olivia, please," his voice hoarse, his reddened eyes pleading, "I never would have left your side if I thought you were still alive. You have to believe me!"

She yanked her arm from his grasp and snapped at him, "Don't. Touch me." Her green eyes had lightened to a near translucent sage color, glistening as tears collected in pools. "You turned your back on me when I needed you most. I should have never loved you." Her voice was so hard and brutal that Lily almost wished she had used that knife to his heart, for it would have saved him from going through this new heartbreak.

Lily watched a single tear slip over the edge of Olivia's eye and drip down a flushed cheek as she blinked at Danse.

She wanted to step in, to make Olivia apologize and say that she didn't mean it - that she'd only said it out of hurt and anger - but she didn't dare. She knew that it wouldn't end well for anyone. The Diamond City guards were already eyeing them all with anxious trigger fingers and Lily didn't relish the thought of being shot for a scuffle in the marketplace.

Both she and Danse just stood there, unmoving and silent as Olivia turned her back on them and stalked up the main stairs, disappearing out the front gate.

Lily looked up at her friend and cried for him. He was fighting so hard to keep himself from falling apart right on the spot. She needed to get him somewhere out from under prying eyes so he could deal with this on his own.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him back toward Nick's place. Danse let her drag him on without question or fight, obviously lost in his own private hell. Lily was afraid that this would be a setback he might not be able to overcome.

 


	17. New Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's my birthday today ya'll, so I'm posting a quick chapter as a present to share with everyone. 
> 
> Complete Canon Divergence from here on out!

 

Torch stood brooding out over the landscape as the sun slipped over the western horizon. He wasn't impressed with the Commonwealth any more than he'd been with the Capital Wasteland - which was not at all - and he wasn't sure why he'd let Hooks talk him into bringing his soldiers to this waste of space. He'd been here for nearly a year now, and there was no profit in it that he could see.

The loot wasn't worth the trip, and the people weren't worth kidnapping, because no one could ever afford to pay the damn ransoms. He either ended up just killing the hostage, or that little blonde betty and her fucking companions would show up and wipe out his men, release his hostage, and steal his shit.

What was it about these goddamned vaults that kept producing these irritating little bitches? As if he hadn't had enough of getting his ass handed to him by 101, now he had some other whore to deal with. How many more were going to pop out and fuck up his work?

Getting away from the Lone Wanderer had been one of the reason why he'd left the Capital Wasteland; she'd practically reduced their numbers to near wiping them out, and most of the remaining members had fled farther north already. The plan was to take a few years, regroup, and go back in and hit them hard, but with the fucking Brotherhood of Steel still running around like they owned the damn place there wasn't much hope in that.

Not if he couldn't increase his numbers.

They also needed supplies, better weapons and armor - which all took currency to acquire - and of which he didn't have access to, until he made a deal with the Gunners.

 _Fucking Gunners._ The assholes weren't making this any easier on him.

He'd tried his hand in York for a while, but the gangs there were just too numerous to compete with. They were like rats; running all over the city and gnawing on everything. They had been a pain in the ass, but the Gunners? These assholes were a fucking migraine compared to the city gangs. At least those little dickheads could be bribed and manipulated, but these shitwads?

Apparently Betty and her Brotherhood pals had killed the area leader, some guy named Wes, and they'd been unorganized for a bit before a new leader was sent in to take over.

His name was Galigo Cullen, and he was a hard fucker. Strict, focused. And one of the most arrogant dickshits Torch had ever met. The asshole treated him like one of his recruits, despite having been a top ranking member of his company for years. Now that Torch had formed his own band, he'd taken on the title of Commander, but Colonel Cullen refused to see him as an equal.

It was beyond insulting and frustrating, trying to get some damn respect around here. Of course, his association with Hooks hadn't helped. At least not at first. Gunners didn't think too highly of raiders, so the fact that Hooks was from one of the numerous raider gangs around the area didn't do him any favors in Cullen's eyes.

Not that working with raiders wasn't a headache. They were always fighting among themselves and a new leader took over every other fucking week, but he was sick of dealing with Cullen and was seriously debating just killing him and being done with it. At least that way, whatever loot his men did manage to bring in wouldn't have to be shared.

But yeah, Betty needed to be dead.

And not just her. Torch wanted her companions' heads on pikes as well, and he'd known just where to start looking for them, and he formed a plan.

It hadn't taken him long to find out who they really were and where they hung out, so Torch had sent Apprentice Park to infiltrate the Brotherhood. It had taken two months for the kid to earn their trust, but he'd finally convinced them that he was worth more than just being a worthless wastelander, and they'd let him on board their dumbass airship as an Initiate.

_Morons had no idea what was in store for them._

It wasn't going to stop with just capturing the three who'd made his life hell. He had bigger goals than that, but those would wait. He wanted Betty and her pals out of his way first.

Only two, so far - Betty and her Brotherhood jack-hole were Minutemen now. They'd been easily tracked down through the Castle, and that would be far easier and faster to get into than Park's mission had been.

Torch had always taken pleasure in torturing his hostages, and this time, there would be no need to keep them in one piece in hopes of a ransom.

Hooks told him to leave it alone, since Betty hadn't been directly attacking them for a few months now, but Torch had a score to settle and he wasn't about to give that up. He wanted payback. He didn't give two goddamn fucks that Betty was the general of the militia, or that her tin can had turned out to be a fucking synth. All Torch cared about was stripping the hides from their bones, inch by agonizing inch, and watching them plead for mercy while he let them die as slowly as possible.

Torch mouthed a yellowed, broken-toothed grin at the thought of what he'd do to Betty once he had her within his grasp. A simple bullet through her brain was too good for the likes of her, and he had already settled on lighting her ass up.

Maybe he ought to send his men out looking for marshmallows, because she was going to make one helluva bonfire when he was done with her.

But it was the thought of what he wanted to do to the other two that made Torch happiest - because truly, it was those two jackasses that had done the most damage to his men, his standing, and any hope he'd had of earning some damn respect around here. Slicing the flesh from their bodies as they screamed in agony would be the highlight of the whole fucking trip to this useless scrap of earth. He could hardly wait to hear them begging for death.

Unfortunately Betty and Synth-boy would have to quench his thirst for retaliation, because Park had somehow learned that the other bitch had been killed in that attack those Brotherhood lunkheads had carried out on the lab rats. It was a damn shame, too, because that bitch had been the worst of the three. Not only had she shot an unholy number of his men, but she'd had a habit of setting off charges and blowing up his bases so that they'd be permanently unusable.

_Fucking cunt._

He would really liked to have chopped her head off.

But two would do, and Torch smiled as he watched a squad of his men walk out the gate of their compound to hunt down his quarry. They'd better fucking bring back his targets alive, too, or he'd take his anger out on them instead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
Arthur ran his fingers through his beard as he paced the confines of his office in Fort Strong, trying to devise a way out of the current bungle he found himself in. Word had come the previous day that the Brotherhood's Elder Council wanted to establish permanent headquarters in the Commonwealth, and they wanted him to be in charge. While that idea was actually appealing, the additional problem it created was not.

When he'd left the Capital Wasteland, Arthur had left behind more than just his duties at the Citadel. He'd left behind a fiancée. A woman who he had only met a month prior to leaving, and who he knew extremely little about.

Arthur understood that as the last Maxson, he had an obligation to find a bride and continue on his family's legacy. The only problem he had with that, was the fact that the Council had decided that he was not fit to decide who that person would be. They had chosen for him, introducing the bride-to-be at the farewell dinner that was thrown to see the Prydwen off to the Commonwealth.

Aurelia Woodruff was the daughter of a highly honored Sentinel. She was intelligent, properly schooled in etiquette and protocol, trained from a young age to one day be the wife of a high-ranking official. Aurelia was beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful woman Arthur had ever seen; Golden hair that fell in gentle waves down her back, with woeful brown eyes, perfect, rosy skin, and plump rose-colored lips that gave her hourglass figure all the feminine appeal a man could ask for.

But beauty only intrigued Arthur temporarily. The woman had no substance, no....zest. She reminded Arthur of those picnic forks he'd seen on prewar posters and ads. The ones that were colored to look like real silverware, but were still just the same cheap plastic utensils as the rest; shiny on the outside, but weak where it counted.

She was nothing like Lily Ribisi.

While Arthur would admit that he found Lily very appealing to look at, he also wouldn't deny that the woman had held his attention far longer than any other he'd every met. Lily was resilient, taking her punches when dealt and standing strong despite them. She was resourceful, clever, and determined. Her charisma for life and everything she did was like a magnet, drawing a person in and shining like rays of sun on a cold winter morning.

Arthur visualized looking into Lily's lapis-colored eyes and took a deep breath, wishing she was standing there with him so he could look upon her in person. He moved to the window and looked out over the water towards the Castle.

He and Lily had gotten very close during their collaboration against the Institute. He had been so inspired by Lily's work at her settlements, and her dedication to make the Commonwealth safer and more supportive for the people, that he'd continued their partnership beyond the temporary truce between their factions. They now aided one another, sharing duties and burdens, as well as the benefits.

Lily had become something more to him than just a collaborator. She'd become an ally, and then a friend. And now...?

Arthur's feelings for her had changed from prudent wonder to respectful awe, and then flowered into pure admiration. She was everything he wanted in a mate. Beauty, strength of body and mind, integrity, and intelligence. He admired her ambition to reach her dreams of restoring the Commonwealth. Maybe it would never be as it once was, but it could be better than what she'd stepped into after two hundred years.

That was the kind of spark Arthur wanted in his life, and Lily seemed to want to be in his. He'd taken his time showing his interest in her, giving her a chance to finish grieving the loss of her family and life from before, and they'd made progress into something more...intimate. One day soon, he hoped to put a ring on her finger and call her wife, and wake up every morning with her in his arms, but....

How was he going to tell Lily about Aurelia? Hell, how was he going to get the Elder Council to back off and let him choose his own wife? It posed a very big problem.

The Council had power, and if he went against their wishes and married Lily without their blessing, they could remove him as Elder of the East Coast Chapter. He could-- no... he _would_ \- submit a request to take Lily as his bride, but he knew that they would object. She wasn't born into their way of life, nor did she hold their beliefs. Arthur was already pushing his luck by going soft on some of the rules, and letting things slide that the codex forbid. The Council had already been all over him for that, but since he was making great progress, they hadn't persisted.

But this? They weren't likely to be swayed to overturn the betrothal to Aurelia, and that was not a pleasant thought. Even less so than the news that they were sending her to the Commonwealth to be with him. The Council wished for them to spend more time together and set a wedding date.

Arthur groaned as he thought about having to entertain that empty, pretentious woman. And worse, the look on Lily's face when he had to inform her that he was engaged, and that his fiancée was on her way to be with him. It's not what he wanted, but he wasn't sure Lily would believe that.

He was determined to find a way out of the betrothal, but... Would Lily wait for him? Would she still want a life with him if breaking this arrangement took too long? If she would wait, how long would she wait for?

A soft knock on the open door of his office pulled his attention from the window.

"Elder Maxson?"

"Yes, Scribe, what is it?"

The scribe walked into the room and stopped at the front of his desk, laying down a folder. "The newest report from Paladin Longwell, Sir."

He thanked the scribe, who went breezing out the door, and walked to his desk to look over the intel. It wasn't good news.

The report mentioned several areas of concern near Brotherhood outposts that weren't well-defended, and Arthur cursed at the amount of personnel and supplies that were being lost, and he wondered if the Minutemen were experiencing these types of incidents. If so, why hadn't Lily contacted him to discuss it?

His eyes scanned the rest of the report, yanking to a stop near the bottom of the page.

_....._   
_Two Brotherhood units were ambushed by mercenaries near Covenant, as well as a Minuteman troop making a routine sweep of the area around Taffington Boathouse. Each attack resulted in the loss of allied forces, as well as small amounts of supplies._   
_Settlers are now requesting additional support from both factions, and describing the mercenaries as extremely violent, and hostile. The attackers refuse to negotiate on any terms, and rarely seek to merely pillage for loot. Taking prisoners doesn't seem to be a common theme._   
_One account in particular has me worried. Mister O'Toole, head guard at Taffington, informed me that the mercenaries armor was marked with a symbol he'd never seen until this incident; A white bird claw._   
_....._

Arthur felt his body tense as he read that last line.

It couldn't be. Could it? It it was who he thought it might be, what the hell were they doing so far north? Last he'd heard, they were still causing mayhem in the Capital. If Paladin Longwell's report was correct, then the Commonwealth had acquired yet another enemy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this while still half-asleep, so if there are any errors or whatever, I apologize. Let me know in the comments so I can fix them, if it bothers you. :D


	18. Echoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just More Fluff

 

The encounter in Diamond City had caught Olivia off guard. She'd known stumbling into Danse was inevitable, but she hadn't expected to find herself so utterly bushwhacked by the overwhelming feelings that seeing him again brought to the surface. The once spine tingling sound of her name on his lips now also caused lung-crushing agony, ripping open every emotional laceration that the past months of separation had scarred over.

She hadn't wanted to face him, afraid what she would find in his eyes. Fear? Maybe horror. Regret possibly. She certainly hadn't expected to see heartache in those dark depths. It was impossible not to be affected by the torment and the guilt that oozed from those beautiful brown eyes as he regarded her, and she attempted to force the image of his handsome face from her mind. She hadn't missed the little flashes of hope and joy at seeing her again.

But those didn't matter. Things could never be the same.

Danse had been so close she could have touched him - which she'd considered doing, her hand itching to feel his cheek in her palm - but she refused to give in to the desire. And it hurt. She was tortured between wanting to run into his arms and the desire to run as far as she could get.

She was barely aware of her surroundings now, as she walked through the door of the apartment she'd been sharing with Deacon for the past few months, so off kilter that she let it swing close and slam behind her, making Deacon jump. He watched her warily with those piercing blue eyes of his as she plunked down into an oversized chair.

"All right, start talking. What happened?"

"I ran into some people in D.C. that I wasn't ready to see," she told him despondently. 

He laid whatever paper he'd been reading on the table and came over to sit on the ottoman in front of her.

She knew he was gauging the tone of her voice, the slump of her shoulders and the bloodshot whites of her eyes, even without looking, and he said a moment later with a hint of vexation, "And by people you mean Danse."

She nodded, but still didn't meet his gaze, because she knew what she'd find if she did.

Deacon hadn't liked Danse since the Brotherhood's arrival in the Commonwealth. Hell, probably before he'd even known of Danse's existence. Even after Danse had been revealed as a synth, Deacon wouldn't let up on him and give him a break. He just hated the man.

Maybe Deacon had had other reasons for sneaking into the Institute the day of the battle, disguised as a militiaman, but she was fairly sure the majority of the reason was so that he could keep an eye on her. If she'd made it out on her own and learned of it, she might have been angry with him for risking his life like that - if not for the fact that his devotion to her made her feel guilty for not reciprocating his feelings to the same extent.

To be completely honest, Olivia knew that if it hadn't been for that Brotherhood soldier who had given Danse a stimpak, and if not for Danse plunging it into her chest, Deacon would have been pulling out a corpse.

Olivia had relived the events of that day over and over again for the first several weeks after she'd woken up - remembering again and again throwing herself in front of that energy blast, taking the hit that had been aimed at Danse; knowing he'd leapt forward to catch her as she fell; hearing the anguish in his voice as he'd called out to her - and logically she knew that he had done nothing wrong, but she couldn't seem to get past the knowledge that she'd still been alive when Danse had left her body lying on that bare floor and run off. Emotionally, she felt both empty and yet full of resentment.

It was the knowing that Danse had given up on her so easily that made her chest physically hurt every time she thought about it - which was often, though she hid it from Deacon as best she could.

But he knew. She wasn't a talented liar. He knew that no matter how many times she got angry over it, how deeply hurt she was over the fact the man she'd loved had abandoned her...

But she couldn't leave Deacon now. Not after the lengths he'd gone to in order to keep her alive.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Him and Lily."

"What did they say to you?"

She shrugged, suddenly feeling drained. "Not much. Asked how I was alive, said 'sorry' and tried to make excuses."

Deacon leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees and covered his mouth with clasped hands for a moment or two before speaking again, as if he had more he wanted to ask but wasn't sure how to phrase it. Or maybe it was that he simply didn't want to hear her answer.

"Anything else?"

Olivia lifted her eyes to meet his then. "I made it clear that I don't want anything to do with him now."

Deacon swallowed but didn't reply. He knew exactly what she knew; she was lying - to him, and to herself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
Danse wasn't sure how he'd made it back to Sunshine Tidings, or even exactly when. Time wasn't a concept his brain really cared about right now, as he sat on the floor of his cabin, his back against a wall. Lily had tried to talk him into staying at the Castle for a few days, but he just wanted to escape the noise and her piteous looks, and work through this mess alone.

Seeing Olivia alive and mere feet away from him, after all this time of believing she was gone, left him feeling as if he'd been sucker punched. It took his breath away and knotted his gut, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

If there was one thing Danse hated more than anything else, it was making a mistake, especially one caused by a rash choice in the heat of a moment. He much preferred taking his time to decide on a course of action, weighing possibilities and consequences. Ones made in the chaos of battle were not ideal, and often led him to second guess himself when the result was less than favorable. 

Thinking back on everything that had happened over the last year - all the decisions he'd made that weighed on his conscience, all the losses he'd suffered because of the choices he'd made - and those that had been made for him - sent his emotions all over the place, and he was having a difficult time pinning them down long enough to truly analyze them.

Rationally, he told himself that he couldn't have known Olivia was still with them. He was only trained in minor field care; he was no doctor. How could he have known that the stimpak had worked?

Yet he also considered that he could have done better, and his conscience called him a failure; blamed him for not giving her more time to show some sign that the stimpak was working; argued that he should have at least carried her out of there and seen to a proper burial, even if she hadn't recovered. She hadn't deserved to be left behind, dead or not.

He'd gone through the memory of the Institute assault over and over again in his mind since the day it happened, just to be sure of what he believed to be true; to be sure he'd done all he could to help Olivia before he'd gone off on that insane binge to kill every Institute freak he could find (he'd lost count somewhere around thirty.)

He had been so confident that she'd had no pulse. She certainly hadn't been breathing, and the stimpak he'd injected into the left side of her chest hadn't brought any changes that he could see, hear or feel. Energy weapons were powerful and dangerous, and he'd just assumed the worst when he could feel no pulse.

Apparently assumption truly was the mother of all fuck-ups, as Worly liked to say, and Danse grappled with the knowledge that the choices he'd made had led to this, confused about how he should feel now.

On one hand, he'd never been happier to find out that he'd been so wrong about something. But on the other hand, he blamed himself for not making the right decision in the first place. If he had, then he never would have had to go through six months of hell thinking she was dead. He never should have left her side to begin with, and knowing he'd made the wrong choice left him feeling incompetent and unreliable - two things he aimed to never be.

His mind was jumbled trying to make sense of it all, and he absentmindedly ran his hands through his thick hair before resting his elbows on his knees and laying his head so that his palms were pressed against his eye sockets.

He was still in a bit of shock over having seen how much Olivia had changed over the half year of her absence. Not just her appearance, but the way she looked at him now.

The woman he'd once yearned to kiss was no longer standing there looking back at him with loving eyes. She was bitter, and angry, and it was all his fault. Olivia was right. He'd given up on her, and that particular knowledge was the worst of all. Knowing that she'd still been alive when he'd turned his back on her....

Danse sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and released it very slowly to keep himself calm.

He'd chosen to rush off at the first sign of loss, so sure that she was gone. He'd had no faith in her. No faith that she was strong enough to hang on; no faith that she wanted to be there; no faith that she loved him enough to fight death in order to stay with him.

Yet how could he really have known that she loved him? She never spoke those words to him. He told himself that he had no way of knowing.

_Liar._

It was bullshit, and he knew it. He'd known the second he'd looked up above the bunker at Listening Post Bravo and seen her standing over him like a protective angel, that Olivia loved him. She wouldn't have been there, otherwise. Not after the way he'd treated her.

He didn't deserve her, or her love. He should be glad that she hated him now. But of course he wasn't. That very thought was like a thousand cuts to his soul, and he wanted nothing more than to go back in time so that he could re-do that day. He should never have let her go. He'd made a terrible mistake.

Danse tried to make himself feel better with the consolation that at least she was out there, alive, and that maybe someday she would forgive him. He wondered what to do from this point. His head was spinning with all the 'what ifs', 'should haves', and 'maybes' that circled through his brain.

He'd never been good at handling personal relationships, and this was why. There were too many emotions involved, too many possible failures and heartache if things went wrong.

He was torn between wanting to give her the space she seemed to want, and wanting to attempt to fix what he'd broken. Didn't she deserve to be left alone, if that's what she wanted? Did he have a right to push her to reconnect? He worried that his desire to have her in his life was selfish and needy.

He realized now that he had let Olivia sneak past his defenses and into his heart all those months ago as they had traveled together, but had denied it out of fear. He hadn't wanted to admit that his heart was in her hands, because it made him feel powerless. But now that he accepted it, Danse was more than ready to do whatever it took to show Olivia that he had learned from his mistakes; That he would never again walk away from her, and he was going to spend every day of the rest of his life proving it, even if she never changed her mind.

_....Please let her change her mind._

He didn't know why or where it came from, but a quiet thought kept whispering to him over and over again that Olivia had loved him then and surely that couldn't have changed. She'd risked her life more than once to save him. Why else, if she didn't love him? And deep down she had to know he still cared for her. Right? Yet, maybe she didn't. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her, and his actions certainly didn't show it.

His mind was made up. The next time he saw Olivia, he would tell her how he felt, and from there the choice would be hers.

In the meantime, he had a job to do. Worly had been covering for him for far longer than acceptable, and Danse pushed himself to his feet, his goals clear in his mind.

Nothing was going to stop him this time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love can suck sometimes. 
> 
> Next chapter will set up for more action.


	19. Running Blind

 

Olivia was standing next to Deacon in front of Old Man Stockton's counter in Bunker Hill. Another caravan was heading west and needed a guard. It would be the third trip she'd made in the last three months, if she accepted it.

A couple more people would be joining them, looking to make a life further away from the Commonwealth. She had a feeling that they were likely synth stragglers who hadn't found a home yet, but Deacon wasn't talking about it, and the old man was playing dumb as he always had. Honestly, she didn't care. As long as she got away from this place for a while so she could breathe without fear of running into Danse again, she wouldn't care if they were molerats in disguise.

Deacon tugged at her elbow as the caravan leader came into view and they walked over to meet her.

"Glad you decided to take the job," the woman Olivia knew only as Alfie, said.

"I haven't exactly agreed, yet," she replied with a glance at Deacon. "Someone has been neglecting to share information."

Alfie glanced between the two, seeming to pick up on the tension that hung between them, but she didn't comment on it.

"Well, all I can tell you is our destination is kind of iffy right now. We're heading a little farther west than we've been going, but our contact hasn't been in touch for a while. We can't afford to stick around here any longer and wait to see if the location is safe, so we've decided to just head out and cross that bridge when we get there."

Olivia's right brow quirked and she gave the woman a vexed expression. "That's pretty dangerous, and not just a little foolish, if you ask me."

"I didn't," Alfie retorted, which pulled a scowl from the other two.

"With that kind of attitude, you're not going too find many people as good as Grim, willing to guard your supplies," Deacon warned.

Alfie shrugged. "Yeah, well. I'm not going to put up with a control freak trying to take over my caravan, either, so take it or leave it."

_Control freak?_

"If you can't handle taking orders so I can keep your ass in one piece, then I'll gladly leave it," Olivia snorted and turned to move off, but Deacon grabbed her arm and pulled her back to his side.

"Now hold on a second," he breathed. "Let's not make any hasty decisions. You know how those end up."

Olivia glared at him, the vague remark was clearly a reminder of the one thing she didn't care to think about.

_Why is he bringing that up now?_

It was just a jerk move, and only served to cement the idea that something else was going on here that he wasn't telling her about.

She grabbed the sleeve of his denim jacket and said to Alfie, "Excuse us for a minute," before yanking him off to an empty corner.

"What are you up to, Deacon?"

He gave her that innocent boy look that he always used to make when he'd drank the last of the Bourbon and she'd confront him upon finding the empty bottle left on the shelf.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Ols. I'm not up to anything."  
  
Her hands were on her hips now and she closed her eyes as she shook her head. He could be exasperating at times.

"One would think that you would have learned by now that I know when you're lying."

He smiled. "You sure about that?"

That little niggling voice in the back of her mind perked up again, warning her that there was something else going on here besides trying to strike a deal with the caravan for a job, and it steadily got louder until it was screaming in warning. Deacon had been trying too hard to be subtle about getting her to accept this escort job. Whatever he was up to, she wasn't going to like it, but she'd rather not be left in the dark.

"Either tell me the truth, or I walk." Her expression and tone were dead serious. "You've got five seconds to decide," and she started to silently count down.

He hesitated until she hit zero and rushed to answer. "Okay, Okay!" Then he slowed down, "Fine. Since you're soooo insistent... You win, okay? So, here it goes. I'll tell you everything you w--"

"Goddamnit, Deacon, just spit it out!" she hissed in a whispered voice.

His shoulders dropped a bit and he sighed. "...I'm heading out on an op that may last a while, and I wanted you to be away when I left."

The news made Olivia pull back in shock, her mouth opening in a tiny, silent Oh. "But...why?"

She couldn't see his eyes behind those mirrored shades he liked to wear when disguised as a caravaner, but his body language was saying that he really didn't want to be having this conversation.

Deacon shrugged. "Because I wanted to pretend that you'd miss me while I'm gone and would be waiting for me when I get back." He pulled a limp grin. "Stupid, right?"

Olivia shook her head. "No, Deacon, that's not stupid. Of course I'll miss you, you're still my closest friend."

Deacon pulled her into an embrace and she could feel the solid beat of his heart ticking a steady _ker-wump ker-wump_ tune as she let her ear rest against his left shoulder.

His arms tightened around her and his voice cracked a little as he said, "And I always will be," and he kissed the hair by the top of her ear as he pushed her away and tried to smile. "Take care of yourself out there."

"You too," she ordered seriously, and somberly watched him walk out of the pavilion and disappear.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
"Major? The General's on the radio for you. Says it's urgent."

Corporal Carlisle was peeking his head around the doorway when Danse cracked his eyes open and sleepily got up from his much needed nap. He'd been awake for nearly three days straight trying to turn the new recruits into well-prepared soldiers, and so far, things seemed to be improving all around. Between himself and Lieutenant Worly, the drills and training had exceeded his expectations of what the wasteland settlers could do, and he was working hard preparing courses and coming up with new ways to challenge them as they gained competence.

Danse stuffed his feet into his boots without stopping to lace them, and shuffled sleepily behind Carlisle back to the radio room where he grumpily grabbed the microphone.

"Radio Freedom, this is Danse. Go ahead, General."

Lily's voice came over the speaker almost immediately.

"Caravans were attacked over by Gorski Cabin by a group of mercs." He could hear the slight rush to her words that immediately got his attention, and he was now fully awake. "A runner went to Abernathy for help, but the rest are still holding ground out there. Three wounded for certain, possibly more. Not sure how significant the injuries are. Can you get a squad and head over to help?"

Danse let the info sink in, but he wasn't sure why this situation would have Lily so upset. Attacks on caravans weren't something new, and usually they were over far too quickly do much but clean up the mess and collect what could be salvaged.

"I can try, but it'll likely end up a recovery instead of a rescue," he answered.

"I highly doubt that, unless the caravan's head guard is out of commission."

Danse's brows scrunched in bafflement. "What makes you say that?"

White noise fizzled eerily from the speaker before Lily replied in a hesitant voice, "Because it's Olivia."

His eyebrows shot up as chills ran over his flesh, and he instantly handed the microphone to Carlisle and said, "I'm out in five minutes. Sergeant Toland is in charge until I get back," as he ran out of the room and rushed back to the barracks. He yelled at Worly to gather a small squad of the more experienced shooters and meet him at the gate in four minutes for a rescue, then went to grab his things and tie his boots.

He walked out the gate three minutes later, with Worly and six militia men at his back. He made a mental note to commend them all - once this was over - on being quickly prepared, and tell them how proud he was of their professionalism.

Danse made them double-time it towards Gorski, and filled them in on the circumstances as they jogged along. They could hear the gunfire and shouting well before they reached the site, and he stopped his men at the top of the hill just to the south of the cabin. He motioned for them to stay low as they crept closer to quickly survey the battle and make a plan.

As much as he wanted to go charging in to save Olivia, he knew he had to be smart about this, or he'd just get his own men killed. They were still too green to handle a firefight without direct instructions, and he wasn't about to take risks that were unnecessary.

Crouched behind a clump of dead brush, Danse could see that the mercs had the front of the cabin covered, but no one was getting too close. They'd set up beneath the tower and pulled some old furniture and fallen trees in front of it as barricades, and most of the attackers were hunkered down behind them. They were merely popping of shots at the cabin to keep those inside nervous and frightened. A mental tactic to wear them down to exhaustion while the attackers waited patiently outside, mentally and physically rested.

The windows of the cabin had been covered, either previously boarded up, or recently blocked by whatever they'd found inside the cabin. Only narrow slits had been left clear for gun barrels. The only way into those type of cabins was through one door in the center front of the cabin, and the attackers would have to enter the covered porch in order to get to it. As long as the two shooters covering the front windows had plenty of ammo and were good shots, the mercs weren't going to get to them anytime soon.

Not unless they tried burning them out. But that wasn't likely. What would be the point of setting the cabin on fire and risking all the loot going up in a blaze?

No, it was more likely they'd wait it out, let the caravan run out of ammo or water, and then lie their way into a false truce so the door would be opened willingly. Then it was highly likely everyone inside would be slaughtered.

He watched the mercs through the scope of Civil Liberty. The leader of the group seemed to be a redheaded man with an overgrown beard. He was standing near the back, directing under the tower, and pointing and shouting at the men ahead of him, but Danse couldn't hear his instructions clearly. The man wasn't even bothering to try to stay behind cover, and Danse wondered why Olivia hadn't eliminated him yet - he'd be easy pickings for someone with her level of skill, which made him wonder if maybe Lily had been misinformed and the head guard was someone else.

A flash of white on their uniforms drew his attention and a few choice words dribbled out of his mouth that made his men look at him in wonder; He rarely cussed, so when he did, everyone knew something was bad. He recognized the white bird claws painted on their armor from his days in the Capital Wasteland, and his gut twisted.

What the hell were Talon Company mercenaries doing way up here in the Commonwealth?

This was bad news. Whatever they were up to, the Commonwealth was going to suffer before anyone got this under control. Talon Company mercs were way worse than the average raider gangs here. They were vicious, and would attack anyone and anything if they thought there would be some kind of gain. Hell, sometimes they just did it for the fun of it.

"What's the plan, Major?" Worly asked in a hush.

He and his fellow militiamen were alert and waiting patiently, and Danse pulled them into a small huddle and kept his voice low.

"We're going to pincer them up against the front of the cabin. I'll take three of you around to the east and come up behind them to flank the north side. Lieutenant, you will flank the south side and wait for us to get into position. I want everyone to stay low, and keep quiet. No shooting until I give the signal."

"Roger that," Worly said.

His plan of attack would put the Talon's in a crossfire, and with the help of the shooters inside the cabin, they should be able to eliminate every enemy without any losses of their own.

He only hoped - if it was Olivia in there - that she was watching, because he doubted anyone else who saw him would understand what he was doing, without needing it directly explained. He didn't want any of his men shot by the caravaners because they were mistaken as the enemy.

 


	20. Light the Fuse

 

Olivia was sitting on the floor at the back of the cabin next to the other injured travelers. They were alive, but they weren't looking good. They needed some stimpaks, or at least medical aid. Unfortunately, all their supplies - minus whatever they'd been carrying on their persons - were out in the wasteland, strapped to the backs of the skittish Brahmin that had taken off when the first shots had been fired.

She'd been walking along the front, running point as she was so used to doing, and she'd had to turn back when the gunfire started. She'd warned the Brahmin handlers to get their animals out of the way, but before they could secure them, the beasts had bolted and run out of sight. Normally, they would return to their caravans after the fight was over, but this time, she doubted that would be the case. It was more likely that they would be captured and killed by their attackers, or maybe run back to whatever location was most like "home" to them.

Which left the travelers with no more medical supplies, and running short on water and ammo.

The caravaners and the few migrants weren't very good shots, and their weapons were pretty poor quality. Just a few pipe guns and a shotgun that couldn't hit shit. Olivia had tried to talk Alfie into hiring more guards, but the woman had said they couldn't afford it.

_Well, that already came back to bite them in the ass._

Olivia wiggled side to side to stretch her aching back and pain shot through her right thigh, causing her to suck in her breath through clenched teeth. She had been shot several times in the past, but never had to deal with the pain for this long, as there had always been someone close by with a handy stimpak or other meds. Alfie's daughter, Emelia, was among the caravan troop, and she'd helped Olivia dig the bullet out of her leg, but beyond that and a rag tied around it, nothing more could be done right now.

Emelia was leaning over one of the other wounded, talking to the woman in a gentle, sympathetic tone while she cared for her. The injured man was currently passed out next to them and Olivia worried that he wasn't going to last much longer. Both of the others had been injured far worse than she had been, and without those meds, they likely wouldn't make it through this.

"Grim?" Alfie called from her post at the window by the door. "There's movement out behind the tower. I can't see how many, but they don't look like more of those white claw guys."

Olivia pulled her left leg under her and pushed to her feet in a silent grimace. The pain in her thigh flared higher as she limped quickly to peer out the makeshift balistrarias they'd made for their gun barrels.

Alfie was right. There were four men sneaking up along the northeast side of the tower and it was obvious they didn't belong to the attacking force. Two of them were wearing militia hats, and another sporting a Minuteman hat like she'd seen Preston Garvey wearing. It looked ridiculous, but at least it made it easy to recognize them. The fourth man, the man leading them around the tower, had neglected to cover his dark hair, but they were too far away for her to make out details through all the brambles.

"No, that's our rescue, so for God's sake, don't shoot them," she told the others.

It dawned on her then, that maybe there were more Minutemen out there, because it made little sense to move around the attackers to hit them from the north side if they'd traveled from the south. She switched windows with Alfie and lifted her rifle to survey the south side of the cabin through the lens of her scope. If it hadn't been for a dash of aegean blue armband poking from behind a tree trunk, she would never have noticed the four men that were squatting in wait.

_They're flanking for a crossfire!_

"Alfie, get that shotgun and cover the porch. Andrew, cover that north window. When the shooting starts, you blast anything wearing a white claw that moves past."

Andrew nodded and pried the boards off his window, and Alfie shoved away the dresser panel covering hers as well.

"And what are you gonna do?" the caravan leader demanded.

Olivia removed the chair from under the door knob and unlatched the bolt. "Go bird hunting?"

The tension in the room was thick as they waited for their rescuers to make their move, and Olivia stood next to the door frame with a tinge of excitement. She wanted payback.

A sheer whistle rang through the air, marking the beginning of the Minutemen's assault - the exact same kind that she used to make when calling in a particular companion posted outside a campsite - and her pulse began to race at the similarity.

Gunfire echoed around the area, and Olivia pulled the door open enough to lean around the frame and squeeze off some shots at the men under the tower. They were now darting every which way, unsure of which way to attack or which way to defend from, and a few had hurtled the barricade and were sprinting off to the northwest past the cabin.

Olivia's rifle recoiled as she let off a burst from her semi-automatic, and she saw her target go down face first into the dirt. The other two men had made it past the corner of the cabin out of her line of sight, but Andrew had one in his sights and she heard him give a little shout of triumph as his target hit the ground. She had no idea what happened to the third man, because she'd already turned back to the right to take aim at the red-head fellow that had been running the group.

Just as her fingers touched the trigger the man's arms dropped to his side and hung limply as he wilted to the ground. A few more gunshots further out and it was over.

Everyone inside the cabin stood in anxious silence, waiting to see what would happen next.

"It's all clear to come out!" a familiar voice informed them, and Olivia stepped cautiously out onto the porch, her thigh screaming in objection to the movement.

Olivia's brow sloped up when she saw Worly standing at the end of the porch. "Worly?"

He threw one of his beaming smiles at her and tipped his hat back a bit with the point of his finger. "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. If it ain't Olivia Grimaldi in the flesh."

"We appreciate the assist," she breathed a little puff of relief, "and if you have any stimpaks to spare, we've got a couple wounded inside that could really use the help."

"Of course." Worly called for a medic and motioned to one of the men that had gathered with him at the front of the cabin and the man removed his bag from his back and headed across the porch and past her to disappear inside.

She limped across the porch and down the few steps to approach the militiamen, Alfie and the others exiting behind her, now that they knew it was safe to leave the building.

"Looks like you could use some first-aid yourself," Worly said, scanning her injury.

"It can wait," she replied and lifted her hand to shake his in thanks. "I'm just glad you got here when you did. I'm not sure we would have lasted another ten minutes."

Worly accepted her handshake with pride and enthusiasm, but the acclaim that slid from his lips wasn't for himself.

"We were only following the Major's orders." He glanced around then, and looked at one of others. "Where is the Major?"

"He took off after that fella that rushed off like he was being chased by a deathclaw on fire," a young man answered.

Worly shook his head. "Excuse me, while I go check on him."

He hadn't taken more than two steps when a gruff voice brought him to a stop.

"Are we all accounted for, Lieutenant?"

Olivia's heart leapt in her ribcage. She knew that deep, gravelly voice that used to send shivers down her spine and electric jolts through every nerve ending. Damn if it still didn't.

"Affirmative," Worly told him. "Did you manage to catch up to that runner, Sir?"

"I did."

The voice was much closer now. So close, in fact, that Olivia could feel his presence just over her shoulder, and she wavered in turning to face him. Her eyes lifted to his face and it took every inch of her willpower not to step closer to his beckoning form.

"Danse," she said in a much more unruffled tone that she was currently feeling. "I didn't expect to see you."

He offered a modest smile and motioned to his men. "We go where we're needed, and we were the closest to your position when the General received your distress call."

Olivia nodded and glanced around. "Well, we thank you all for showing up. I'm not sure how much we can give the Minutemen for the rescue, but I'm sure Alfie can come up with something."

Danse shook his dark head. "I doubt the General cares about that. You know how she is."

Olivia gave a nod. "Yeah. How, uh....how is she, by the way?" She really hadn't gotten a chance to chat with Lily that day back in Diamond City - busy as she'd been tearing Danse a new one.

"Good. She and Arthur have quite the bond, working together as they've been for the past 8 months. I think they're both smitten with each other."

That made her smile and she released a gentle chuckle. "Yes, I think I noticed that a while back," remembering their shared looks of concerned adoration just before the synths had attacked the CIT yard.

She didn't dare say 'the day you left me to die', but he must have known she was thinking it, for he swallowed hard and asked his men to give them space for a minute, his expression turning rather serious.

"Olivia, there's something that I should have told you a long time ago, and I need to say it now. I hope you'll be kind enough to listen."

She chewed the inside of her cheek, not sure she really wanted to hear more excuses, or apologies, or whatever he was about to say. A part of her just wanted to pretend that day had never happened, but it was hanging between them like a rotting corpse. But as hurt as she was over what had happened, she was also grateful for what aid he had provided, and felt like she at least owed him the courtesy of hearing him out and she gave a little nod.

"I know you probably don't want to hear me say it again, but I truly am so very sorry. You were right, I gave up on you and I deeply regret it. I honestly didn't understand how much you meant to me until that day, and I regret not telling you how I felt." His dark eyes gauged her expression and she could sense his fervency to get everything he wanted to say out before she changed her mind, but he was keeping himself in check to stay composed. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I hope that you will. I know we can't go back, but... Please consider letting us start over. You're a new person, and I'm trying very hard to be one as well, and learn from my mistakes. I want you in my life, Olivia." His eyes were soft as they took in her neutral face and relaxed gaze, and he dared to venture further. "Will you give me another chance?"

A little shudder of exhilaration passed over her and she hugged herself and rubbed her arms. He sounded so sincere and hopeful in his speech, and Olivia couldn't help but think that maybe she was being too implacable in her anger, that she was only hurting them both by her choice to keep him at a distance. She had a decision to make. She could either stay mad - running off the anger and pain that she felt - letting those feelings dictate her life and keep her in misery, or she could put it all behind her and give him a chance to start fresh. Like he'd said, they weren't the same people they'd been then.

If there was one thing she knew about Danse, it was that he never spoke impulsively, nor did he ever make things up. He said what he meant, and he always meant what he said. How could she say no, to someone like him?

And if he hurt her again?

"How exactly do you want me in your life, Danse?" She had to ask, because he hadn't really made that clear. "Are you wanting simple friendship, or something more?"

His face colored and she wondered if maybe she'd pushed him too far outside his comfort zone for him to answer. He'd never been comfortable with displaying emotions, and public displays were certainly a no-no.

"Friendship is certainly acceptable, if that is all you're willing to give," he stepped toward her gingerly, reaching out to touch her arm, "but I feel closer to you than anyone else I've ever met, and I had hoped you might want something more than just friendship." 

His tone was so sweet and genuine that it melted the remaining bits of Olivia's anger like frost in summer morning sun.

She knew that the more she saw him now, the more she would want to be around him. There was no point trying to deny that her feelings for him were still alive and kicking, nor that she could ignore them forever.

"I'd like to try," she admitted, and his face lightened.

"We can take things as slow as you need. I promise not to rush you." He offered a small, shy smile. "And... if you'd like to, you can call me Gabriel."

That brought her eyebrows up. "Gabriel?"

His smile broadened and he nodded. "As long as you only use it when I'm not working, and keep it between us."

"I would like that very much," she declared, and watched his face brighten, his eyes gleaming with joy, and her entire body warmed at the sight. Olivia couldn't stop from returning his grin. If she got hurt again, then she got hurt. She'd just have to deal with that if the time ever came. And until then...

She was going to throw her dice and gamble on this magnificent man in front of her, and hope the payoff was going to be well worth the risk.  
 


	21. Pitfalls of the Profession

 

It had been two weeks since the attack on the caravans. Lieutenant Worly and Olivia had escorted Meghan - Starlight Drive-In's Provisioner - as well as Alfie Duarte, her daughter, and three of the other travelers to the Castle.

The Brahmin had been found a couple days later, shot through the skulls and their packs destroyed for the loot. Lily had managed to replace some of the supplies her people had been carrying, but she could do nothing about the fear they were still feeling at having to go back out into the wastes.

She promised to help Alfie's team try to find another way west, or an alternative place to move, but Alfie just wanted to let her wounded recover - they were currently at the Abernathy farm being cared for - and to rest up a bit before trying again. This time, she decided that they would make less appealing targets if they didn't have pack animals, so she was going to wait until after the move to find more.

Lily had just finished going over recruitment tallies with Captain Shaw, and since it was nearing noon, she decided to go get Felix and have lunch. Rising from the swivel chair at her desk, she went out to track him down.

She'd been apprehensive at first, about bringing the synth boy back from the Institute. Everyone knew what he was, even Arthur. But they all seemed to understand that after what the Institute had taken from her, she wanted to be a mother to someone who needed her for more than just doing their dirty work. This synth child had no one to care for him now, and it fell on her to take that responsibility because she was the one taking away his home.

He'd called her mom, but he wasn't Shaun. Lily wasn't swayed by the knowledge that he shared her son's DNA or that they looked alike. He was not Shaun, and he never would be. So she'd sat him down and explained to him what had happened to her and her family, and who and what he was. The boy had taken the news quite well, his only concern seeming to be if she were going to leave him alone, or if he could stay.

Of course Lily would never make him leave. Scientifically he was her son, and even if he hadn't been, he was just a young boy. None of this had been his fault.

So she let him pick a new name for himself, built them a small cabin on the little pond next to the Castle, and they had been bonding every day since, as Lily and Felix. He still slipped often and called her mom, and secretly it had begun to make Lily happy to hear the word, so she'd stopped correcting him. Felix was becoming much more to her than just a synth boy she needed to care for. He had lit up a space in her damaged heart that she dared not dream could be healed.

When Lily walked out the north gate she could see him playing in the little area over by the destroyed diner. He and Olivia were throwing a ball back and forth, laughing and smiling. She loved hearing Felix laugh, but she was surprised to see Olivia in such a carefree mood.

Not that Olivia had never been happy, but after the last debacle between them in Diamond City, Lily didn't expect the woman to express anything other than cool detachment towards everyone.

After seeing the caravan people to the Castle, Olivia had accepted Lily's offer to stay, though Lily wasn't quite sure why. She knew Olivia had been sharing a place with Deacon, so it wasn't as if she had nowhere to go.

Of course, it may have something to do with Deacon being gone. Ollie had told her that Deacon wasn't with her any longer, and Lily didn't quite know what to make of that. Whether he was off on Railroad business, or gone from her life for good, wasn't clear. She could see the sadness in Olivia's expression when she'd told Lily about it, but she hadn't gone into details and Lily wasn't about to pry, so they'd left it at that.

Yet, with Deacon currently out of the picture, Olivia was free to do things she wanted to do without feeling like she owed him for saving her life. With that kind of pressure gone, it would be logical that she'd feel lighter and happier.

Or, it could have something to do with Lieutenant Worly.

Lily had known the man for many months now. According to Danse, Worly was quite a soldier. He followed orders well, was professional and reliable, and had a quick mind. He was friendly but firm, and he was never one to sit around when there was work to do. He seemed like a good guy, but Lily had mixed feelings about him as a person. She appreciated his skills as a Minuteman soldier and leader, but she wasn't sure how she felt about him getting closer to Olivia.

Not after she had witnessed him flirting with her the other day.

Lily hadn't questioned Olivia about it, after all, Olivia was no longer her companion, nor was she a part of the militia. She really didn't have a right to say anything about it to Worly, either, since it wasn't interfering with his duties or those around him.

It was hard to tell if Olivia was just being civil - slash, friendly - or if she truly enjoyed Worly's advances. Lily never saw the woman directly seek him out, but Lily often observed them talking together, and Worly seemed to have a knack for always bringing out a smile or a laugh. Was Olivia interested in Worly romantically? She honestly couldn't tell. It wouldn't come as a shock, if she was. Olivia was a healthy, red-blooded woman and Dayle Worly was an attractive man. Shouldn't it be a relief that two people could find some sort of happiness in the dregs of civilization?

Yet...

Lily worried what would happen if Danse found out about it. He'd said nothing to her about Olivia since the rescue, but it seemed he was still under the assumption that he could win Olivia back, and if that weren't the case...if Olivia was falling for Worly...

_What a disaster that would make._

Lily stopped, gave Olivia a little wave and called for Felix. "Hungry? I can make us some lunch."

The boy tossed the ball back to Olivia with a huge smile and nodded. "Sure thing, Mom. Can Olivia come too?"

Lily nodded. "Of course," she ruffled his hair. "If she wants to, that is."

Felix turned back to his playmate with sparkling eyes. "Would you, Ollie?"

"Uh...sure."

Felix skipped ahead to the cabin with a whoop of excitement, and Lily let Olivia catch up to her so they could walk side by side.

"You and Dayle Worly seem to have hit it off," she said in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

"Mmmhmm, yeah I guess so."

Lily kept her attention on the path ahead, though she desperately wanted to study Olivia's face for clues to how the woman felt about that statement. "He's handsome."

Olivia stopped walking and Lily turned back to find questioning eyes gauging her.

"And?"

"And...nothing," she shrugged. "I just noticed that you seem to like him."

"Is that a crime?"

"Of course not. Can't I just make an observation without there being an ulterior motive?"

Olivia huffed and shook her head. "No, because you and I both know you're fishing for something." She shifted her weight off of her still healing right leg. "Just fucking ask already."

Well, alright then, since Olivia was offering an open door, Lily wasn't about to refuse to step through it.

"Is there something going on between the two of you?"

"Depends. Are you asking as my friend, or because you're being nosy?"

_Busted._

Lily made a little face and her shoulders lifted briefly. She supposed now was the best opportunity she was going to get to find out what Olivia's intentions were where Danse was concerned. Maybe the woman had no idea he was trying to prove himself to her. If not, would telling her make a difference in what seemed to be a budding relationship between her and the militiaman?

"Both, actually. Are you aware that Danse is trying to make up for what happened before?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip and sighed. "Yes. He and I already cleared the air, and we're taking things slow."

"You did? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We haven't exactly been what I'd consider 'close friends' lately. I wasn't sure you'd care to know."

Like Danse, Olivia hadn't ever been keen on grand displays of affection, but Lily couldn't contain her happiness and she yanked Olivia into a deep hug, laughing.

"Oh, Ollie! I'm so happy you two have reconnected!" Olivia gave her back a few pats, clearly uncomfortable at being the object on display, and Lily pulled back. "So what are your plans, now? Do you have something else lined up with the caravans?"

"No, I'm unemployed, now that Alfie doesn't need me."

"Perfect!"

Olivia gave her an unappreciative look. "Why are you so happy about that?"

Lily pulled the woman along behind her as they went to the cabin, to share her plan over lunch.

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
MacCready was lounging in his normal spot at the Third Rail when the dark-haired woman strutted in, his feet propped up on the seat of a chair that he'd pulled over, a beer in one hand and using the other hand to scratch an itch at the crotch of his pants. He watched her with narrowed, but curious eyes, as she took a seat at the other end of the couch he occupied.

She reminded him a bit of Magnolia, except her black hair was long and hanging over her shoulders and her piercing amber eyes cut like blades over his form. He said nothing, taking a drink from his Gwinnett and letting his gaze slide over her in an excruciatingly slow perusal, feigning far more composure than he currently felt.

"You MacCready?" she finally asked.

"Depends on who's asking, why, and how much it pays," he lifted the bottle to his lips and let another swallow wet his throat.

She chuckled. "I heard you were a smartass. I can tell you and I are going to get along just fine."

"Oh yeah?"

The woman leaned closer and stretched out her hand. "I'm Vanda Toovey, and I'd like to hire you."

He looked at her hand but didn't take it, then met her gaze. "Look lady, I don't mean to bust your bubble, but I've already got a boss."

 _Hmmm, boss may not have been the right word to describe Lily_. Employer? Ally? _....one of his best damn friends in this fuc...er, messed up world?_

Yeah, that about covered it. Lily and Olivia had helped him get out from under Winlock and Barnes, then turned around and Lily damn near gave her life to get the cure for his son.

"Well, that's too bad," the woman clucked. "This job pays very well, and all you have to do is make one little shot."

Mac's brows drew together. "That sounds an awful lot like an assassination," he tried to keep his voice cool, but his insides were jumping in nervous alarm.

"Eh," she shrugged. "Depends on how you look at it. Either way, five thousand caps would fill your pockets and you'd be walking away with no further obligation."

Five thousand caps? Damn. Whoever the fool was, they weren't just some dumbass settler or dirty farmer.

"Who's the target?"

Old Amber-Eyes chuckled again. "Nuh uh. You don't get that info until later. I decide the time, the place and the target. All you do is say "okay, boss lady" and pull the trigger like a good boy."

Something didn't feel right about this, and Mac pressed his lips together in a tight line before replying.

"I think I'll pass. Like I said, I'm already on a job."

Those amber eyes crinkled when she smiled at him at rose from the couch. "I'll let you stew on it, and we'll talk again later."

"No need," Mac spurt across the room at her retreating back. "I won't change my mind."

She stopped to toss him a seductive look over her shoulder. "Mmmm I wouldn't count on that," and then she was gone. The way she'd spoken the words caused a shudder to run down his spine and he was pretty sure it was threat. Or a warning.

The whole thing was just creepy, he thought as he sat there nursing the remnants of his beer. A strange woman comes into the bar to hire him, specifically, for one job - but won't share the identity of the target - and wants to pay him five thousand caps to off the poor sucker? Something was up. No one pays that much for anyone in the Commonwealth, unless it's someone who's been making waves.

Like that Brotherhood dick, Maxson, or someone of equal stature. A body would pay a hefty price for that. Or someone like...

_Shit! Lily!_

The thought didn't fully register until he'd drained the last drop of beer, and he left the empty bottle on the couch as he went flying out into the lounge room and clambered up the stairs as fast as he could.


	22. Losing It

 

Rivers of sweat were dripping down Olivia's face and into the neck of her teeshirt as she punched her wrapped knuckles into the stuffed-sack mannequin that she'd tied to a thick tree trunk down the path south of the Castle. Some of the things Lily had said to her the previous afternoon had been circling through her mind, and she needed an outlet to work through the frustration that didn't include shooting someone in the face - because there were no ferals or super mutants within three blocks to take it out on.

Lily's assumption that something might be going on between her and Worly was troubling. Olivia had never been great at reading men, and she honestly couldn't tell the difference between someone being friendly and someone flirting. Not unless they made it blatantly obvious, like slapping her ass or complimenting her tits. Of course, those usually didn't end up well for the guy who gave them.

Olivia punched the sack with two left jabs and a hard right, then repeated.

The bad part was, Olivia really did like Worly. He was smart, funny, and a good guy where it counted. And he was attractive. Maybe if she'd met him before she'd met Danse, they might have hit it off as more than just friends, but as it stood...

Oh, who was she trying to kid? It wouldn't matter who she'd met before Danse. Once he'd come along, any guy she'd ever had her eye on would be dust in the wind.

_No, it's Gabriel now._

She punched the sack again.

Getting used to his first name was going to take a while.

She hoped Worly didn't think she was interested in him. That would make things between him and Danse awkward, since the two men worked so closely together.

Another two jabs to the straw mannequin sent puffs of fine straw particles into the air and made her cough as it went up her nose.

"Who's the dummy?"

The voice was so close behind her it caused her to jump, and she spun to face the intruder, pulling up her hands in reactive defense. She could see by the amusement in the man's eyes that he'd purposefully snuck up on her.

"Worly! You son-of-a-bitch. Don't. Do that!"

He let out a deep-bellied chuckle, "All right," and put up his hands. "Sorry."

"What are you doing here? I thought you went to the marina to help them with a bug problem."

"Yeah, that was the plan, but when we got there, nobody was around. Not even bugs."

That piqued her curiosity. "That's...odd."

"We came back to brief the General, and see what she wants us to do."

Olivia began undoing the rags from around her hands. "I'll come with you."

They walked up the path together and through the south gate. Olivia looked across the courtyard at the small gathering of people that were making their way towards the large room that had once been the General's quarters. Now that Lily had built her small cabin, they used the room for meetings and other large gatherings. She spied Lily's golden hair gleaming from the front of the line, but it was the tall man in the back that drew her attention and caused her breath to hitch.

What was Danse doing there?

The question must've been plain on her face, because Worly answered it as they approached the group.

"Third wave of training at Sunshine is over. The Major came to collect the next bunch to start a new wave." 

She gave him a slight nod of understanding, and gave a little smile when Danse's eyes slid in her direction. She wasn't sure what the hell she was going to say to him. She'd probably mumble something stupid, or fall back on the old "Hey" comment that she always used to make.

Olivia followed the rest of the group into the room and stood with her back to the wall nearest the door. Worly stepped beside her and folded his arms over his chest as they waited for someone to speak. Lily was at one of the long table ends, Captain Shaw at the other, with Patrick and Danse in the middle - along with various other militiamen that Lily had selected. A few others were standing around the table, some leaning on the walls in similar fashion as Worly and her.

"Major," Lily spoke up and looked at Danse. "Why don't you report first."

He cleared his throat and nodded. "My suspicions concerning the identity of the caravan attackers have been confirmed. I've got first-hand accounts from several settlers that described the same white claw emblem on the armor of assailants that I saw that day. It is most definitely Talon Company."

No one seemed to understand the gravity of his statement, as they hadn't had encounters with the mercenary group prior to these recent incidents. Olivia was bothered, though. She'd heard of them, and some of the heinous things they'd done, and she knew that the Commonwealth was in big trouble if they were slithering out of the Capital Wasteland.

"How large of a problem do you think they pose, Major?" Lily asked.

"A considerable amount, even if their numbers are low," he stated with a long face. "These people are worse than Gunners. They will take any job, kill without warning, and sometimes take hostages. They don't normally keep prisoners, but if you end up in their clutches, death will likely be a blessing."

Everyone in the room grew tense at that, and a shiver went up Olivia's spine that blossomed out to cover her bare arms in goosebumps. Worly must have seen her tremble, for he moved his hand to rub her arm. Her eyes lifted to his and she shook her head to warn him off, and he hesitated an instant before letting his hand drop. When Olivia looked back over at the table she found Danse's dark eyes on her, an unreadable expression on his face.

 _Fuck_.

She let her eyes skim over the rest of the room, ignoring the stab of guilt that knifed into her gut. It didn't matter that Worly's gesture had been innocent. It was Lily's words from the day before that were making Olivia uncomfortable now, warning her not to flaunt her rapport with the Lieutenant in his commander's face.

"So what should we do about these...Talon's?" Lily asked. "You're the expert on them, Major. What do you suggest?"

Danse's eyes had dropped to the paper in his hand, though he obviously hadn't been reading it, and he swallowed hard before answering her.

"Until we can locate their bases, all we can do is increase settlement defenses, and put guards on our caravans. I suggest two guards with each Provisioner, and shortening their routes as much as possible. Shorten guard duty to 4 hour increments and add two additional to each period. If at all possible, we should think about walling in settlements. Barricades, at the least. Safety of the people is preferable to settlement aesthetics."

"Agreed," Lily announced. "Patrick, will you pass that along to everyone?" The man nodded and she moved to the next issue. "Lieutenant Worly? Were you able to take care of the problem at Egret Marina?"

He pushed off the wall and shook his head. "Didn't have to, General. We got there and not a soul was in sight. Bugs, nor people."

"Wait," Lily looked confused. "Not one single person was there? That...doesn't make sense. There are over twenty residents there, last I checked." She was looking at the others as if they could give her answers, but they all looked as baffled as she was. "Was there any evidence of where they went?"

Worly shook his head. "Turrets were all functional, buildings intact, and crops in good condition," he shrugged. "We waited around a bit and then headed back."

"Major," Lily turned to Danse, whose face was a mask, "Would you gather a squad and head out there and take another look? If our people are missing we need to find them."

He nodded. "Who's the best tracker you have here?"

Lily blinked a second as she considered, then looked over at Olivia.

"Ollie? I know you aren't affiliated with us, but... Would you mind? I'll make sure you're compensated."

Olivia glanced over at Danse, but his eyes didn't meet hers. She really wanted to decline Lily's request and stay out of this, but there was really no way she could do that without having to explain why. She glanced at Lily and nodded, "Sure," but her voice held no enthusiasm.

"Is there anything else we need to discuss?" Lily looked from one person to another and received only negative replies, so she rose from her seat. "All right then, Major, I'll let you handle the details of your mission. And Olivia, report directly to Danse. Meeting dismissed."

Olivia was the first out of the room and headed back toward the showers so she could change out of her sweaty clothes, but she didn't make it far before she got held up with a question from one of the newcomers asking for Captain Shaw. She turned back to point out the woman and saw Danse approaching, so she rushed to disappear. Unfortunately, his long stride at up the distance before she could make her escape.

"Hold up a minute," he told her and stepped into the closest alcove where he waited for her to join him.

Olivia's heart was thrumming nervously in her chest as she stepped closer, and she tried her best to present a picture of calm poise with a steady, "What's up?"

"I need you to be honest with me right now, Olivia," his rich voice held a bite of vexation as he watched her with inquisitive eyes. "You know I saw it, so I just want to know... Are you playing some kind of game with me? I thought that when we agreed to try being more than friends it meant other men were off the table for you. Was I wrong?" 

Olivia glanced out the little window to the ocean and bit her lip before shaking her head and facing him again.

"No, you weren't wrong, I just have a lot of shit to work through, and I need you to give me time to do it." 

Well, that was easier to admit than she'd expected. She was willing to try, but... God, this was so much more difficult than she'd thought it would be. All her feelings were so jumbled up, flip-flopping around like a snared fish. She felt like a bobblehead, bouncing all over the place in no particular direction.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply to keep himself collected. "And will you be working through this alone, or is Worly helping you?"

Olivia felt her throat grow a lump so big she felt as if she would choke. "Please don't act like a possessive jerk, Danse. It doesn't suit you."

His eyes sparkled dangerously in the evening sunlight that shone across his face, casting them in a warm cinnamon hue as he studied her.

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"No!" she bit out, feeling insulted and targeted. Danse should know her well enough by now to know that she didn't go around sleeping with random men. 

His eyes narrowed and cut like daggers. "But you want to?"

She wanted to immediately say no again, that she had no interest in Worly beyond the current friendly interactions they had, but seeing Danse act like a scorned and distrustful husband was a huge red flag and the rebellious side of her shadow nature kicked in, and out of spite she refused to answer his question.

"I'm done talking about this."

Olivia turned to leave, but his hand whipped out like a striking snake and grabbed her forearm. "Well, I'm not," he hissed, pulling her back to him and into his chest. Suddenly his other hand was buried in her hair, pulling her mouth to his in a rough kiss that felt like heaven and hell all at once.

She'd dreamt of his kiss so many nights, wished for it more often than air, but after everything that had happened these past seven months, Olivia was scared that he would be the death of her - permanently this time. She didn't want to be hurt again, to be disappointed by someone else's choices. Despite how badly she wanted to be with him, she was afraid that if she let him in, he would fail her.

His warm lips moved over hers like a branding iron, searing her with his mark, and liquid heat began to pool at her core. Olivia wasn't even aware that he'd released the grip on her arm when she lifted them to splay her palms over his chest. Her body's desire fought with the fear in her mind, and the low rumble of his moan was the dash of cold that ripped her back to reality, and she shoved away from him.

"Stop!" she rasped. "Just," her fingertips brushed her tingling lips, "...stop."

Olivia fled then, out the doorway and into the courtyard at a brisk walk, taking the south gate out of the Castle. She needed space. She needed away from him so she could think! She couldn't ever think with him so close. Did he know the effect he had on her? Was he using it to manipulate her? He muddled her thoughts by evoking physical urges that she couldn't seem to control. How could she learn to trust him again if he was going to pressure her like this?

She was suddenly regretting their agreement, her acceptance to stay at the Castle, as well as to accompany his team as a tracker. Maybe it would be better to back out and hit the road. There was nothing for her here now - Deacon was gone, MacCready worked for Lily - and she was fucking tired of saving everyone else's ass. Maybe it was time she saved her own?

 


	23. Don't Look Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more fluff before the last Kaboom :)

 

 _Goddamnit_!

Danse called himself every name he could think of as he watched Olivia rush away across the inner field of the Castle and disappear out the gate. He hadn't been thinking straight after witnessing that interaction between Dayle and Olivia. The man had put his hand on her as if it were the most natural thing in the world - a familiar gesture that occurred frequently between them - and Danse had nearly bitten his tongue in half to keep from saying something in front of all those people.

Even though it was a rare occurrence for him, he wasn't so ignorant as to not recognize the emotion for what it was, and he didn't like the way jealousy made him feel. Or act. It was completely out of character for him to show his feelings so openly and without control. He'd let that appalling emotion prompt him into overstepping the arrangement Olivia had consented to; They would talk, and take things slow. He'd promised not to push her.

But seeing Worly touch her like that had sent a flood of insecurity through him that he couldn't dam up fast enough. Nothing had been discussed about being exclusive. He'd just assumed....again. He really needed to stop doing that.

His big hands raked through his hair as he stood in the alcove, silently raging at himself over his stupidity.

In truth, he hadn't even considered it a possibility that he would need to be concerned about Olivia being interested in other men, because she had never spent much time with anyone except Lily or that skinny twerp, MacCready, and he knew those relationships were nothing to cause worry.

Of course, there had been Deacon, but Danse had no clue what kind of relationship Olivia had with the man. They'd traveled together, worked together sometimes, she'd said, and though he could tell she cared about Deacon, she'd never looked at him as if they were something more than good friends.

Danse hadn't considered that Olivia might meet someone new, but maybe he should have. And Dayle Worly, of all people?

He could hardly blame her, if it were true. Worly was a decent guy. Good-natured, reliable, tough. And he had a way with women that Danse could never hope to achieve. Knowing that only made Danse mad, though, and he disliked the feeling of wanting to punch Worly in his face and tell him to stay away from Olivia, because in truth, he really did like the man. He was a good soldier and a lucrative part of his team at Sunshine.

While Olivia appreciated rules and customs, she wasn't fond of being ordered around, or being put on a leash. Expecting her to exclude contact with other men would be liken to putting a collar on her and chaining her to him. It would never work. She was too independent, her will too strong. It would be worse than trying to hogtie a Yao Guai and attempting to make it into a pack mule. Olivia was the kind of woman that had to want to do something; she couldn't be forced. That part of her hadn't changed a bit.

And she wouldn't be manhandled. Not by anyone. He knew that, yet he'd let his jealousy overrun his damn sense, and... Of all the times to finally convey his emotions it just had to be now, and with the worst possible emotion to express.

A knot formed in his chest and he exhaled shakily.

What would any of that matter, now? He'd likely just botched every chance he'd had at being with the one woman who had ever meant anything to him on a personal level. All because he couldn't control the covetous monster that clawed at his insides at the thought of her with someone else, especially when he ought to know better. Olivia wouldn't have said she wanted to be with him if she hadn't meant it. He knew that. He also knew that Olivia was one of the most loyal people he'd ever met. She wouldn't have agreed to try being more than friends if she'd intended to keep her options open.

Danse felt like a fool, letting his insecurity and inexperience make him act so irrationally, and he decided that if Olivia didn't just end their relationship outright, he wouldn't repeat this mistake again. Unless he saw proof otherwise, he would simply trust her to be the honest, reliable and loyal woman he knew her to be.

But first, he'd have to apologize for being an idiot. Again. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Worly was leaning back in his seat, his arms hanging over the back of a bench that sat against one of the walls of the courtyard. He could see into several of the doorways that led into the inner Castle rooms, and he'd had a fair view of the Major and Olivia after the meeting had ended.

He knew something was up when he'd tried to warm up her goose-pimpled arms and she'd denied him. He'd watched her eyes drift across the room to the table and lock with his commander's and that's when their past encounter fully registered with him. The tension that he'd witnessed back at Gorski wasn't because of the fight over the caravans, or even because of an aversion between them. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Danse and Olivia had history. Intimate history, if his guess was correct, and judging by the kiss he'd witnessed just minutes after the meeting had ended, his theory was smack on target.

What he hadn't expected though, was Olivia's reaction to said kiss. At first it seemed like she was enjoying it, but after a moment, she'd pushed him away and took off without a backward glance.

As a people person, that had been an interesting exchange to watch.

So Dayle sat there, studying his commanding officer's reactions and making mental notes until Danse went further down the hall and disappeared.

He considered going after Olivia then, but he'd come to know her well enough in the last couple weeks to know that there were times when you just didn't want to intrude on her. Unless of course you wanted your head removed from your shoulders.

He grinned to himself at that thought.

Olivia was an enigma that he found entrancing. Not that wasteland women weren't tough anyway, but Olivia was above average. She could handle herself in a firefight, as well as face to face - words or fists, made no difference. She'd kick your ass as soon as shoot you. She was quiet, and at first he thought maybe shy, but no. Turns out she just didn't trust people enough to openly speak, unless she had something worth mentioning. If you could get her to talk about something she found interesting, like weapons or tactics, she had quite a bit to say.

But she was still largely a loner. Even around all the people at the Castle. She was kind, and helpful, but she didn't voluntarily go running off to intercede for people. At least, not that he could tell. But when asked for aid, she never really hesitated to concede.

Until today at the meeting. Her reluctance to accept the General's job offer had not gone unnoticed. He'd seen her gaze slip to Danse's face when Lily had requested her help, though at the time he'd simply assumed it was because she might not want to take orders from him, or she didn't like the idea of working with him. Now it made far more sense.

So what was he going to do about it?

There were a few women that Dayle had his eye on, Olivia being the most recent. He wouldn't deny that she intrigued him and he was quite taken with her thus far. Had been since back when they'd first met months ago.

But did he really want to mess with a woman that was clearly lovesick over his commander?

Not to mention the fact that Danse could have him cleaning outhouse toilets with a toothbrush for the next month, if he managed to piss the man off by competing with him for his girl. And yeah, there was really no doubt about it in Dayle's mind. Olivia really was Danse's girl, even if she was resisting it. If the look in her eyes upon seeing him at the Castle today weren't enough to display that, then her rebuff of Dayle's innocent gesture during the meeting was. She hadn't wanted to do anything Danse might construe incorrectly - mainly, that there was something going on between them. If she didn't love the guy, that wouldn't have even been an issue.

Now he knew why. She didn't have any interest in him like that, because it was already invested in Danse.

Dayle was a bit perturbed that he was excited by that. He liked a challenge, and Olivia was definitely an appealing one. It was more than just the competition that stirred him. It was the woman herself. Olivia was unlike any other he'd ever met, and the thought of claiming her as his own was extremely tempting. He knew she liked him.

It was obvious to Worly - who prided himself on being able to read women - that Olivia was attracted to him. The fact that most women were could've caused him to be arrogant about his looks, conceited with pride, but he really wasn't. That didn't mean he wouldn't take full advantage of his appeal though, because that would just be plain stupid. But Olivia hadn't fallen for his flirtatious remarks or not-so-innocent touches, or his naturally good looks. She hadn't outright denied him, but she sure as hell hadn't folded like most women did.

His chances of winning her over weren't looking very good, though. Not if Danse kept kissing her like he'd just done. Dayle could see how it had affected her, and he knew it wouldn't take many more of those before she ended up in the man's bed. If Dayle had any chance of wooing her, he would have to make a move fast, and hope he timed it right.

But again... Did he want to even dare to try?

He had it good at Sunshine. Meals to eat, a roof over his head, a decent job with good leaders, and it was all rewarding. Did he want to risk losing all that? Even if Danse wasn't his superior, Worly would hate to provoke the man's wrath. Danse was a beast while in the best of moods; he'd hate to see what happened to someone who ticked Danse off royally.

Naw, his mind was made up. It wasn't worth it. Olivia may be an incredible woman, but Worly would much rather keep his body intact than have Danse rip him limb from limb.

He stretched his legs out in front of him and relaxed into the bench, grinning.

Since he wasn't going to be the one to split them up, he might as well play cupid and help push them together. After all, he'd always been a sucker for love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter....ACTION!


	24. Sizzle and Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Smut ahead!

 

The sun had just begun to peek over the eastern horizon when the militia squad started trickling in to the courtyard of the Castle one by one. Pale rays of light licked across the sky, casting puffy clouds in a palette of pastels. Olivia stood on the northeast wall overlooking the green-black ocean as it caressed the sandy coastline, and pulled up the collar of her leather jacket against the nippy breeze. The mornings were getting cooler with each passing week, and winter was only a couple months away. She wondered what it would have looked like now, had leaves still been on the trees. Would they be tans and browns as the grasses were, or would there be more color?

Danse's voice from below her caught her attention as he greeted his squad and made sure everyone had grabbed a bite to eat, making a quick but thorough check of their weapons, gear and packs. Olivia continued to stare across the sparkling surface of the water, half-listening to the hushed tones that played over the crisp air, as the waves lapped a gentle rhythm against the sand.

Her thoughts fluctuated in a similar pattern, as she see-sawed between deciding whether to take off or if she should stick things out. She had already agreed to help Lily with the Egret Marina situation, but after that...

She had never considered herself to be a coward, but the past six months were proving to her just how much of a yellow-bellied wimp she truly was. Why couldn't she just get over shit and move on? It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

She'd trusted her superiors back in the Mojave, when they'd ordered her to do things that went against her beliefs, but she'd still learned to trust Lily's decisions after that. Con-men had tricked the caravan she and her father had guarded and ambushed them - killing her father in the process - but Olivia had still given her trust to the biggest con-man of the century when she'd later agreed to help Deacon.

What was so hard about putting the past behind her and trusting Danse again? After all, wasn't he a better person now than he had been before? Hadn't he learned from his past mistakes?

Had she?

Olivia sighed into the chilly air. She missed Deacon; missed the way he could comfort her without ever being told what she needed, as if he could read her thoughts and knew just what to do. She missed the way he could make her feel that she wasn't alone, sometimes without ever lifting a finger. His off the cuff quips, and queer soliloquies had always kept her from sinking too low. Yet she realized that she'd never really gotten to know him well. She knew a few things about his past - only because if he hadn't told her, she wouldn't have been able to help him when he hired her all those years ago. But he was a liar, and a damn good one. She could catch him sometimes, if he was too emotionally involved, or if he just didn't care enough to hide it from her. Even still, trusting him had come rather easy to her, and she'd just fallen into an easy friendship with him.

Why did everything always go so wrong for her with Danse? Did the universe have it out for her? Would she ever be able to trust anyone and not be disappointed, betrayed or misled?

That familiar, sharp whistle brought her head around and Danse motioned for her to join the group, moving to wait for her at the bottom of the steps.

"I'll take point until we get there." His voice was even and commanding, with no evidence of anything emotional behind it. "For now, you'll take rear guard." She accepted his orders with a short nod and waited for him to turn away, but he hesitated and then added, "I... apologize for overstepping my bounds yesterday. It won't happen again."

He meant it. Of that, she had no doubt. Danse was a straightforward, speak-no-bullshit kind of man. He let his actions do the talking for him, so on the occasions where he chose to open his mouth, a person could be damn sure that he meant what he said.

Unfortunately, the way he said this now had a ring of finality to it that sent a shiver up her spine. Olivia looked deeper into his eyes, trying to assess what he might be thinking, but it was impossible to read him, as he'd set his face in that hard expression he often fell back on when things got too personal for him to deal with.

"Why do I get the impression that you mistook my reluctance as an outright refusal?" she bit out shakily.

"Not at all," he assured her. "I simply understand that nothing can happen between us, and I will respect your choice."

That sounded an awful lot like he was giving up on her again. He started to turn away and Olivia panicked, snatching his wrist before he could retreat.

"I'm confused, Danse. I thought you were okay with going slow and starting fresh."

Sad eyes met hers, and he stepped back to her.

"I was, and I am. However, I don't think you are." He let out a puff of breath, suddenly looking tired and somewhat doleful. "Look, I'm not giving up, I'm just stepping back a little. We can be friends until you're ready for more, because I don't see how we start fresh if you're holding on to the past. Whether you're meaning to or not, you're punishing me for my mistakes by holding yourself back. I may not be perceptive at reading emotions, but I'm certainly no fool when it comes to body language. Your body says you want to be with me, but you keep letting your fears keep you away."

"Is that it, then? This is about me not sleeping with you?"

Her voice was a bit too loud at that, and he flinched and glanced back over his shoulder to see if the others had heard her.

"No, of course not," he hissed. "I feel terrible about how I acted yesterday, but... I know you enjoyed kissing me. I could feel it. Yet, you fled the second you let your worries overwhelm you. If that's what you're going to do every time I touch you, then isn't trying to start fresh a waste of our time? How will we ever get closer if you insist on keeping yourself distant?"

He was right, of course. Every word he said was true. She wanted him, wanted to be with him, wanted his touch and his kisses. But she was afraid, letting her fear keep her from him. She'd agreed to start anew, to get to know him as he was now, but she wasn't doing a very good job. In fact, she was failing terribly, and it was hurting him.

A small part of her thought that giving up would be best for him. She didn't want to hurt him the way she'd hurt Deacon. If she let him go, he could find someone else, someone who could make him happy. Someone who deserved him. Because she sure as hell didn't.

But when she thought about moving away, never seeing him again, never looking into his gorgeous eyes, or being near him... It was too painful to consider. She knew what she had to do. What she wanted to do.

"Danse, you're--"

A thundering explosion rocked the ground under their feet and a sentry posted outside the north gate screamed into the air so loud it sounded as if the man had been standing right next to them.

"Super mutants!"

Everyone in the yard took off, most heading towards the front gate, while a few headed south to close the doors and bar them. Someone ran to the siren and flipped the switch on before taking off up the stairs onto the wall, and everyone scrambled to find a spot behind the barricades that sat outside the double doors.

The bright orange and yellow flash of a newly launched missile grabbed Olivia's attention as she exited the front gate on Danse's heels, and she spit out a profanity as the projectile screamed toward the militiamen manning the front gate. Warning yells came from above them and people dashed for cover. The ensuing BOOM of the hit into a barricade sent quakes vibrating through the area, knocking the closest people off their feet.

Danse cursed loudly and turned back to her. "Olivia, get up there and take that son of a bitch out!"

Olivia rushed inside and climbed the wooden steps, sprinting to the side of the artillery piece that sat in the hollow of the northwest point, and crouched down to make herself a smaller target. She could see the super mutant with the launcher as he reloaded for another shot, and she lifted her rifle and took aim, but his form disappeared behind the rusted trailer cab that sat cock-eyed up the path to the Castle.

_Come on, you filthy mutant. Poke your head out._

Several other mutants wearing heavy metal armor had already breached the barricades and were barely being held in check by Danse and a handful of fighters.

The hiss of a launched missile yanked Olivia's eyes back toward the row of houses on the western side of the pond, and she saw another super mutant standing at the waterline, its weapon aimed directly at the artillery she was next to. Blue-grey smoke followed the missile's path, and Olivia's stomach clenched. There was no time to run, so she did the only thing she could do. It was stupid, and it was going to hurt, but she had no choice.

She turned back and did a dive and roll off the side of the Castle wall, falling feet first into the crowd of fighters below. The sharp rumble of the missile's impact reverberated from all around and she hit the earth with a solid THUD, directly in front of a hideous looking green monster, razor-like stabs of pain tearing up her legs. The beast reached down and picked her up by her throat, lifting her off her throbbing feet and into the air as it laughed loudly in a grating sneer, her rifle now out of reach.

"Puny human! You die now!"

Olivia had both hands on the hulking grasp of the mutant's fingers around her neck, and fear gripped her as she felt the pain of it increasing, cutting off her air and pressing on tendons as it attempted to crush her windpipe. She kicked out out a booted foot, catching it in the face, but it merely growled out and got angrier.

 _Fuck_.

Why hadn't she buckled her side arm in place this morning? Or at least slid her combat knife into her boot as she usually did. She could see no other way out of this, the mutant's grip was too strong to overpower on her own.

A few bullets tinked off the metal plating at the mutant's chest and she heard Danse yell at whoever was shooting at it to stop firing with her in the way. And then he was there, hurtling himself full force toward the mutant, head tucked in and shoulder bashing the freak in the gut where there was no armor. The mutant suffered no damage, but the strike was enough to slacken its hold on her, and she dropped to the ground. The thing pulled its arms back and puffed out its chest in defiant rage, screaming an insult at them all before backhanding Danse off to the side.

Wheezing and taking large gulps of air, Olivia clambered for her gun, finding it a few feet from where she first fell from the wall and lifted the barrel at the mutants face. It took her longer to line it up than it normally would have - coughing preventing a quick shot - but when she pulled the trigger, the mutants face disintegrated into bloody pulp that sprayed out behind it, covering the barricades in red goo and flesh.

Danse dropped to her side an instant later.

"Are you alright?" his voice cracked and he reached out to touch her face.

She nodded and slid away from him, rushing to her feet. The battle wasn't over, and they didn't have time to sit around worrying over some minor injuries.

"The missiles are still in play," she choked out, her voice hoarse from the damage to her trachea.

Danse was on his feet and motioning to his men then, barking orders and popping off shots to keep them covered while some of them retreated into the Castle for heavier guns.

The whirring of rotor blades echoed around them as three Vertibirds opened fire on the mutants below, and Danse ordered the remaining fighters to back off and let the minigun deal some damage. A missile streaked across the sky toward one of the birds, and the pilot jerked the airship around to avoid a side hit, the impact obliterating its rear tail fin and sending it spinning out of control. It was already low enough to the ground that the impact didn't immediately cause it to explode, but two of the super mutants went running towards it, firing their weapons at the soldiers still inside.

"Take out those brutes before they reach the bird!"

Danse's panicked yell pushed everyone into action and they rushed forward to help the Brotherhood soldiers that had come to their aid. At the same time, the other aircraft had taken out the smaller group of mutants on the far side of the pond, and militiamen rushed toward the downed craft to lend a hand.

Within minutes every super mutant was dead, and a few victory cheers could be heard trickling through the group. Most of them just looked relieved and were standing around staring at all the damage. The downed craft was wrecked beyond salvage, but all of its occupants were alive, the Castle had taken three direct hits from missiles, caving in small sections of the walls. It was repairable, but it would take time. The barricades were mostly intact, though a few would need replaced, and several bodies of fallen Minutemen lay sprawled on the ground by the gates.

All in all, it wasn't the greatest outcome, but it could have been much worse.

Danse was talking with the Brotherhood soldiers, so Olivia slipped the rifle sling over her should and let the weapon rest at her back as she went to help retrieve the fallen militia fighters and put their bodies out sight until they could be buried. For the next hour, people moved about, cleaning up the scenes of battle.

The trip to Egret Marina would have to wait a day or two while some reinforcements were acquired and repairs started, and Olivia went into the armory to gather some equipment so she could get started. Digging into one of the crates for supplies, her back was to him when Danse walked into the room and approached her.

"Can we talk now?" he asked in an easy tone. "You never finished what you were saying earlier."

Olivia let the crate lid close and turned to face him, noting that he was standing back a few feet farther from her than he normally did, a worried look etched into his face.

She'd been going to telling him that he was right. That she was letting her fears dictate her behavior and that she planned to stop, but now... The unexpected attack by the super mutants reminded her that life in the wasteland was dangerous and death unavoidable. Anyone could be snuffed out at the most inopportune moment, and forever ripped from anything they desired. It wasn't the first time her thoughts reflected this, and it likely wouldn't be the last. But it served its purpose here, spurring her into action. The time for talking was over.

Without a second more to contemplate the urge, Olivia approached him and grasped his face in her hands, lifting her mouth to press a kiss firmly to his lips. His breath hitched, but his arms instantly encircled her waist and he was kissing her back, solid and wanting. She let her fingers slide to the back of his neck, entwining into the thick hair of his head, pressing into his scalp as if she could pull him closer into a deeper kiss. She let her lips part, inviting him to do just that, and he didn't disappoint.

His tongue dipped into her mouth, twisting and lapping, swirling against her own as if he couldn't get enough. His hands pulled her into his body and Olivia could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Or maybe it was his heart beating against her chest? Her pulse throbbed in her ears as Danse's grip slipped lower, grabbing her hips and pulling them into him, a low moan escaping his throat in hungry need.

He broke away to trail heated kisses down her neck and beneath the collar of her shirt, leaving fiery sensations with every touch. Her eyes closed and her palms slipped down to his chest, the feel of his hard muscles beneath his tee giving her wonderful images of that chiseled chest as his lips sent delicious tingles down her spine.

Olivia was partly relieved when he pulled back and looked into her eyes questioningly, his eyes darkening with desire, but his actions still in check - the former paladin always in need of control.

"Does this mean you're done holding back?"

She offered an easy smile that tipped the corners of her mouth ever so slightly and nodded.

"Yes, Danse. You're more important to me than being trapped by fear. And fuck going slow. We could be dead tomorrow, and I would regret wasting precious time."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you saying, exactly? I...don't want to misunderstand."

Her smile broadened then, and she pointed to the armory doors.

"Block those with something and I'll show you exactly what I mean."

His hands slipped from her then as he went to the double doors and closed them. It took little effort from him to scoot the heavy weapon workbench in front of them to bar anyone from entering, his muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt, his powerful thighs contracting as he used them to force the object into place.

Olivia watched with hungry eyes as he turned and stalked back to her, and the grin on her face only faded as his mouth slanted onto hers in a fevered kiss that sent bolts of need blazing through her. She grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, making him break the kiss temporarily as she lifted it over his head and sent it sailing to the floor somewhere behind her.

Their mouths met again, greedy with yearning as Danse reached for the buttons on her flannel shirt, tugging it off her arms and let it fall at their feet. Her bra followed a moment later, and Olivia shivered as cold air washed over the sensitive flesh of her breasts. She gasped when his rough palms covered them and his fingers squeezed her gently as he ran kisses down her neck, across her collar bone and down to latch on to one of the tight little nubs.

She let out a soft moan as he gently suckled her, and ran her hands through his hair and across his shoulders and back. He gave attention to the other, pinching the hard kernel lightly between his teeth and rolling the other bud between his thumb and finger. Olivia's head dropped back in pleasure and she moaned louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the concrete room.

Already she could feel her core moistened in anticipation, and she pushed at his shoulders until he relinquished his hold on her. She quickly unlaced her boots and slipped out of them, unbuttoning her jeans to slide them down over her hips. He watched her, eyes darkening with every move she made, and he slipped the fastening of his jeans before stepping up to her.

He lifted her then, taking her to a table that sat in the center of the room, and sat her at the edge before kissing her again.

"Touch me, Danse. Please," Olivia breathed into his ear.

He dropped a hand between them and found her center, sliding his fingers along her slit. She could feel the wetness his touch left behind and a small cry escaped her lips as his thumb found her clit. She barely noticed him kneel down until she felt his hot mouth on her folds, his tongue dipping into her to lap like a thirsty animal. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide upon seeing him perform such an intimate act.

Danse, former paladin "codex is everything" had his face in her pussy, licking her like she could quench his thirst. She crooned at the unbelievable sight, the sensations he was creating in her thrilling. At the sound of her raw groan his pupils dilated until nothing could be seen of his browns, and he let out a groan of his own that went right through her.

He stood up then, pulling her back to him for another kiss and Olivia could taste herself on his tongue as he plunged it into her mouth. Two fingers slipped inside her core in similar fashion and her hips bucked in his hand.

Olivia reached for his pants and unzipped them, pushing them down his hips to reveal his hard length. She ran her fingers up his thigh and wrapped her hand around his shaft, encouraging him to step closer.

The tip of his cock replaced his fingers but he hesitated at her entrance, pulling his lips away to gaze at her with inquisitive eyes.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked huskily, shaky with need.

"Yes," she hissed. "YES."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Danse could feel the heat emanating from Olivia's body, flames licking through him as he touched her skin. It was warm and silky under his hands as he kneaded her ample breasts, her nipples taut and rubbing his palms.

He could hardly believe this was real, that Olivia was there with him in the flesh, alive and not a dream. She had often filled his dreams at night during the months after her supposed death. Most often those dreams had been a rehash of the day she'd stepped in front of the shot meant for him. Horrid memories that haunted him in his sleep. But sometimes...sometimes his dreams of her went back to the day after Listening Post Bravo. To the kiss he had dreamed they'd shared, and he dreamed of even more. Of gentle caresses and passionate kisses; of heated bodies joining in bliss.

But this, now...it was no dream. Olivia was in his arms, and Danse felt a rush of excitement flooding through his body unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Not even the high of battlefield adrenaline had ever made him feel the way he was feeling now.

He kissed down the side of Olivia's neck, nibbling a trail down to her breast to suckle, first one, then the other. Electric sizzled through him at her moan and he pulled back as she pushed against his shoulders. As he watched her kick off her boots and shimmy her jeans down her curvy hips, his breath came faster, his heart thundering in his chest. Unconsciously his fingers went to his jeans and he slipped the button free.

Danse gravitated to her, as if she were a magnet and he were a chip of metal. He gripped her ass and lifted her to him and her legs wrapped around his hips as he walked to the center table. With a swipe of his arm he shoved the contents aside and set her down at the edge, marveling at the beautiful woman in his arms.

How did he get so lucky? His life had been filled with nothing but being following orders, of removing the filth from the wasteland. He'd been so focused on the goals of his faction that he'd put his own needs aside. He was Danse, the Brotherhood soldier, doing his duty. There was no time for personal cravings, even if relationships had been easier for him. He'd thought that his life was fine, that he didn't need more. He'd thought that he was complete.

Meeting Olivia had shown him he was wrong. She challenged his beliefs, wasn't afraid to stand up to him or argue against his ideals. She had proven to him that he wasn't the only person with a painful past, and that despite mistakes, he could be a better person - even after the reveal of his true identity.

He kissed her then, trying to put his feelings into it. Danse had never been adept at putting his feelings into words, and now was no different. All he wanted was to show her how much he appreciated what she'd given him, to show her how much she meant to him.

Olivia whispered into his ear, begging him to touch her, and his hand dropped to her core as he let out a ragged groan. Moisture coated his fingers as he slid them up her folds, his thumb stopping over her nub and pressing lightly. She let out the most arousing sound he'd ever heard and the sudden need to taste her on his tongue was overwhelming.

Without delay he gave in to the desire, dropping between her thighs and pressing his face into her, driving his tongue as deep as he could. He looked up at her face when she gasped, her mouth opening, her eyes watching him in shocked pleasure. He flicked his tongue and saw the sage color deepen to a forest green so hot that he felt the flame of it scorch him. She let out a moan that was nearly his undoing.

Her lips trembled and he stood up, taking possession of her mouth. As he slid his tongue with hers, he slipped his fingers inside her, feeling her tight walls gripping them, wet and hot. When she reached to lower his zipper and his jeans slid down his hips, Danse felt his cock jump as it met the cool air of the room, but it was soon replaced by the warmth of Olivia's hand as she wrapped her fingers around it. She squeezed gently, pulling him closer to her and flipping her thumb over the head, wiping pre-cum across it as she urged him to her core.

As much as he wanted to do this, Danse paused, reminded that just yesterday Olivia had pushed him away, angry that he'd pressed her for more. And now here she was, naked and wanting him. Or so it seemed.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He needed to know the answer, needed to hear her say the word.

Her voice came out throaty and quick. "Yes. YES!"

He slowly pressed himself into her and her eyes went dark before closing, her mouth slackening and her head leaning back. Danse let out a long, ragged breath as he withdrew and pushed in again, further, repeating it until he was fully sheathed. Beads of sweat had already formed on his skin, and he grabbed her hips to hold her close as he started an easy rhythm.

Olivia leaned into to press kisses to his chest and up his neck to nibble on his ear before whimpering into his ear.

"You feel so good," she rasped.

He hummed in agreement and buried a hand into her tresses, pulling her head back to slam his mouth down onto her lips and she moaned into him, sending tremors coursing through him. His pace quickened and his other hand dropped to rub her clit in tempo, eliciting a sultry cry from her as she raked her nails over his shoulders and down his back to grab the cheeks of his ass.

His head dipped low into her neck and his tongue tasted the salty sweetness of her skin, his lips moving over her glistening flesh. Her cries began to flow faster as she approached the peak of her fulfillment and he wanted nothing more than to hear his name on her lips, to know that it was him that she was thinking of when she slid over the edge.

"Tell me you want me to make you cum," he bit out, desire dropping his voice even lower and more gruff than usual.

She moaned and mewled, but didn't reply, so he urged her again.

"Tell me," he ordered. "Say my name, and tell me what you want."

Olivia whimpered again and yanked his ass closer, harder, faster. "Please, Danse. Please make me cum."

His body was screaming for him to comply, but that's not what he wanted to hear. He didn't want her to remember this - their first time together - as he used to be; Danse, the former paladin soldier. He wanted to know that it was the new Danse; Gabriel, the Minuteman fighter, and changed man. So he slowed his pace, pulled back to look into her near black eyes.

"Not the right name," he told her.

Her gaze was glassy with desire, her face flushed from the rush of vigor and he wasn't sure she was understanding what he was trying to get her to do.

"Yes," she whimpered. "Fuck me, Gabriel. Pleeeeaaase. For God's sake, make me cum!"

His hips snapped into her, and he began to pump faster, harder, and her grip on him tightened as she scooted closer to the brink of her release. His edged closer as well, the tightness coiling deep inside him. He could feel the sheath of her pussy gripping his cock tighter and suddenly she spasmed, crying out as her orgasm hit her hard. He pounded into her a few more strokes and his own release came with delicious quakes that vibrated his entire body, his voice hoarse as he growled out in a shuddering victory.

His forehead dropped to her shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her close, not ready yet to let her end their connection.

They stayed like that for minutes longer, Olivia's long fingers playing circles over his back, his own fingers tracing down her arms and ghosting over every inch of exposed flesh. He pulled back and lifted his pants up, reaching down to gather Olivia's clothes as she slid off the table.

Once she was dressed he shoved the workbench away from the doors and swung them open. He looked back at her and saw her smiling. The biggest, brightest smile directed straight at him, her eyes shining bright.

"What?" he asked with a quirked brow.

"Just admiring the view."

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. He couldn't ever remember being this happy, and he only prayed that this was the beginning of more to come instead of something that would end up blowing up in his face. After all, he was a synth. Did he really have a right to be so happy?

Yes. Yes, he did. Because he may not be a real human, born from the womb of a loving mother. But goddamnit, he was real enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! I did it! Or rather, they did it... ;P  
> (and hopefully it wasn't poorly written, because smut is not my talent). 
> 
>  
> 
> Part three will have more Danse and Olivia, of course, but with added focus on Arthur and Lily.  
> Lots more action and danger coming up as well. Probably some tragedy, too.  
> Hope to see you reading!


	25. Part Three - Rules of Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old enemies resurface, bringing new ones in their path of destruction, and they're out for blood, and the heads of the new protectors of the Commonwealth. Can the Brotherhood of Steel and the Minutemen continue working together to purge the wasteland of filth, or will personal problems create a war that breaks the Commonwealth apart?  
> Relationships will be put to the test. Can love and friendship overcome the trials, or will they crumble under the weight of hardship?

 

The time had come to tell Lily about his betrothal. The opportunity presented itself just after the joint force meeting he had arranged for Lily's Minutemen and the Brotherhood.

The meeting room at Fort Strong had been packed with soldiers as they discussed the recent tragedies at Egret Marina, Oberland Station, and Somerville, and Arthur was impressed at how well the two factions were working together to fight this newest threat. He was especially pleased with how his soldiers continued to show respect and support for Danse, despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his banishment from their ranks.

Well, mostly everyone. Quinlan was still being a prude, but the man had always been snooty and Arthur doubted anything would ever change that.

Danse had given an account of the latest reports, to which they all agreed something must be done to eradicate the threat.

The missing settlers from Egret Marina had been located. Well, most of them, anyway. The provisioner had been away when the rest went missing, so only one settler was unaccounted for. The remaining settlers had been found by Lily's hired mercenary, led by Danse and a team of Minutemen. Grimaldi had noticed fresh scrape marks across the weatherworn planks and followed the trail to the edge of the river. The settlers had all been drowned; hands ties behind their backs, feet bound by ropes to concrete blocks, and dropped over the side of the marina docks into the murky water.

The settlers at Oberland Station had been hung and left to rot in the baking sun, slit from throat to pelvis like wild animals and left with their insides slipping out, blood pooling at their feet for the wasteland creatures to feast upon.

What happened at Somerville was no better, the handful of occupants rounded up like rabid beasts and burnt to death in a similar fashion as the witches of the old world.

Everyone is worked up over these vile acts, and though Arthur was just as concerned about what needed to be done to protect the settlements and the wasteland in general, today he had only been thinking of Lily.

Arthur could feel the nervous tension humming through his body, and he willed himself not to shudder in his battlecoat. Instead, he pulled himself taller, and forced his jaw to relax as he pushed open his office door for her. He let her enter, and closed it behind them to give them privacy.

Most of her people had already gone back to the Castle, leaving only Danse and that lady mercenary in the lobby to wait on her. He'd sent the two scribes in the office on tasks that would keep their prying ears away from his door. He didn't need gossip and rumors about his personal life circling the ranks. Well, no more than already ran that gauntlet.

"Would you care for a drink?" He poured himself a generous shot of whisky and downed it before pouring another.

"Thanks, but no." Her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat. "So what was it you wanted to talk about that we haven't already covered?"

He turned back to her, glass in hand. He studied her a moment, etching her face into his memory. He had to admit that her smooth, prewar skin fascinated him. She'd been out of the vault now for nearly a year and still, she showed no signs of radiation damage. It was truly extraordinary. But most of all, he was drawn in by the brilliant deep blue of her eyes, pulled in by the determination and kindness he always saw in their depths.

The woman was like the sun, and he a wilted plant, starving for her light. 

Arthur set his glass down on the little round table and moved closer to where Lily stood near the corner of his desk.

"Many months ago we discussed this....attraction between us. We agreed that it wasn't the right time to pursue anything more than a professional relationship, since our focus needed to be fully centered on removing the threat of the Institute," he pushed a stack of papers away from the edge of his desk and sat there, one leg dangling and the other propping him up.

"I remember," Lily replied, and sat her things in the chair next to her. "That was quite a while back."

Arthur nodded. "It was. But I haven't changed my mind, Lily. I've been waiting to bring it up again, because I wanted to give you time to deal with your losses without pressure to move on, and...to be transparent, I was afraid you might have lost interest."

A gentle smile curved her pink lips. "I have not."

"I'm pleased to hear that." A shudder ran through him, half excitement at hearing her affirmation and half in fear of what he was about to say. "Regrettably, adversities continue to plague me, and I can do little at the moment to end them to pursue a relationship with you."

Her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows drew together. "Are you talking about the trouble with the settlements and the white claw people?"

He could feel the stress and worry that nagged at him coating him like a layer of oil across his skin, and his shoulders sagged as he exhaled a weary breath.

"Unfortunately, no. Those issues will be easily dealt with once we find those responsible. The trouble I speak of is far more delicate, and much more personal." He reached out and took one of her hands between is palms. "Before I tell you, I need you to understand that what I want and what is expected of me are two very different things; that this situation is not of my doing, and I have been attempting to maneuver my way out of it since I learned of it."

"You're making me nervous, Arthur," Lily said softly. "What's going on?"

He looked down at their joined hands and let his fingertips brush over her skin, dreading the words he was about to speak.

"While I was still in the Capital Wasteland, the Elder Council took it upon themselves to arrange a marriage for me. They sent the woman to me with the intention she would become my bride at the culmination of this campaign, and carry on the Maxson line." Lily's fingers twitched in his hands before she withdrew from him, and he lifted his eyes to look at her. "You must understand that I was not informed of it until just weeks before leaving for the Commonwealth. I had little time to deal with that while preparing for this war."

The astonished expression on her face slowly changed to confusion.

"You've been engaged this whole time and never thought to tell me?" she huffed and stepped back. "What did you think, Arthur? That I was so enamored with you that I'd be your side fling?"

He stood up and moved to approach her, but she pulled up her hands and moved away, and he froze.

"I would never want that. I have too much respect for you to ever consider that a possibility," he professed. "I never expected to meet anyone here. Certainly no one as remarkable as you. Lily, I don't want to marry this woman and I'm scrambling trying to find a way out of it."

"Just tell them no!"

"If only it were that simple," he said and rubbed his temple. "I may be the head of the East Coast Chapter, but my authority doesn't outweigh that of the Council of Elders. If I refuse their demand, they would likely denounce me and send a replacement. Or worse." He walked back around to his desk chair and folded into it. "I can't let them take everything I've accomplished and twist it to their own purposes. They would force harsher actions against the wasteland and try to seize the Commonwealth for themselves. I'm trying to work with you, Lily; to give you and your men - the people here who are willing to fight - a chance to improve their lives. If the Council invades, they will make every effort to usurp whatever power you've gained here, and everything you've done will be lost."

Lily stood in silence, her face a mask as his words sunk in. Her bottom teeth worked at her upper lip as his explanation was digested.

"I appreciate what you're doing, Arthur. Your support of the Minutemen has been far more than what I could have asked for. I won't ask you to defy your Council for me, nor would I risk the future of my people for my own gain. I'm disappointed it has to be this way, because I do care for you and had hoped...." She looked away out the window and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Well," she turned back and picked up her things from the chair seat, "that's no matter now."

Arthur sat up straighter. "Lily, wait. I think you misunderstood me."

"What is there to misunderstand, Arthur? You've got a fiancée and a Council you can't piss off, if the Commonwealth is ever going to to be safe again. I will not sacrifice a better future for these people by putting them in the path of power hungry dictators. Nor will I ask you to risk your life, your position, nor your deeds just to find out if we _might_ have something more than friendship."

He had half-expected that she would react this way, even though he'd hoped for a different response.

"I won't stop trying to find a way out of this to be with you," he said.

She gave a sad smile and turned to the door, pausing briefly after pulling it open. "You should, because I won't change my mind."

She left him sitting alone in his suddenly cold and dreary office, the sounds of people shuffling across the floor in the next room, the click of another door as it closed somewhere further away. He closed his eyes and refused to give in to the frustration her words stabbed into his chest. He looked down at the stack of papers that awaited his attention, and his lip curled in hatred and aggravation at what they represented - a duty he'd never asked for, and a life he'd never wanted. It had been thrust upon him, expected of him even before his birth. They had groomed him to be their puppet, long before he'd reached an age of maturity and understanding.

And he despised them for it.

Arthur hated his life, or at least the life he was expected to fulfill. All he wanted was to fight the battles he believed in and be free of those that poured their own aspirations on his shoulders. He wanted to make his own decisions, without fear of disapproval and threats.

Yes, he had some power now, and even people who would support him if he chose to disregard the council's orders, but... How long would he stay in power once their authority was defied? How many of his people would turn their backs on him and refuse to follow his lead? He'd put the splintered pieces of his faction back together once.

Did he have the heart to tear it apart to pursue a chance at love?  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a big Thank You to those that have given me kudos and comments on here (and my friends who've given me feedback through other forums - you know who you are). You guys are awesome! I appreciate your support and hope you keep coming back for more of my craziness. :)  
> Happy Valentine's Day!


	26. Queen of Swords

 

Worly clapped Danse on the back as he took the stool next his commander at the Third Rail bar.

"Damn, I've been looking forward to a drink all day," he said as he motioned to the young girl behind the bar.

"I could definitely use one," Danse said as he leaned on the bar and rubbed his face. He'd had a long three weeks and an exhausting day.

"What can I get you boys?" the thin brunette asked.

"Two whiskeys," Worly told her.

"Make mine a double, please" Danse requested, watching her with tired eyes.

He hadn't seen her around Goodneighbor before, and as far as he knew, only Whitechapel Charlie tended bar in the ghoul town. With her back to them as she poured the drinks, he let his eyes trail down her back and over her rear to her skinny legs. She couldn't be more than twenty, if he estimated it correctly. What a girl so young was doing in this place, and why Hancock would let her work in the bar, he had no idea.

She slid their glasses in front of them and picked up the caps they'd placed on the bar. "Anything else I can get you?"

Worly downed his in one gulp and shoved the empty glass across to her. "Gwinnett Lager."

She put the glass in a bin of soapy water on the far side of the counter and retrieved his beer, which he paid for and popped the cap off.

"You think Maxson will really help us get rid of whoever has been hurting our people?" Worly asked him between swallows of beer.

"I don't see why he wouldn't," Danse answered and tipped the glass to his lips. The liquor burned its way down his throat and left a sweet taste on his tongue. "I've never known him to go back on his word. Especially with the General involved."

Worly chuckled. "Yeah, the love bug bit him good, didn't it?"

"Seems that your love bug has been doing a lot of that lately," Danse grinned. "First me, then Patrick and Scribe Naceri, and now Arthur and the General. If you're not careful, Lieutenant, you'll be next."

Worly hooted at that before taking another gulp from his drink. "No way, not this old man. I've still got my eye on too many ladies to be tied down to one."

Danse ordered a beer and took a few sips. "You'll change your mind when you meet the right woman."

"What, like you?"

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when he thought of Olivia. "I never expected it. Hell, I fought it for months. But the truth is...I knew the second I met her that my life would never be the same. I just didn't know how."

"Stop, man. Don't get all mushy on me, you'll make me sick."

Danse shrugged. "Not trying to be mushy, I'm just saying..." He took another drink, though he thought he probably shouldn't. He was suddenly feeling a little tipsy. Which was strange, since he'd only had the whiskey and half a beer. Was it possible to get drunk off that? "...love is strange."

"Well, I agree with that," Worly said as he twisted on his seat to watch Magnolia.

It brought to mind the night Olivia had rescued him from the singer's advances and Danse frowned into his beer with a shake of his head. He should have had the guts back then to act on what he'd admitted to himself that night. If he had, then he could have saved himself a lot of doubt and frustration. And who knows, Olivia might not have been lost to him for all those months after the raid on the Institute, if their bond had been closer.

Danse closed his eyes, feeling far more tired than he'd thought he was when he'd arrived. Maybe he should head to the hotel. He and Worly had already rented rooms for them, and Olivia would join him as soon as she finished helping the General with whatever it was they'd been talking about when he and Worly had left the Castle. She wouldn't be long, now. A couple hours maybe. He could catch a nap and maybe it would rejuvenate him enough to spend some intimate time with her. They hadn't really had a chance to do that the past few weeks, and he craved to feel her skin beneath his hands again.

"I'm gonna catch some sleep," he told Worly and slid off his seat.

Did Worly acknowledge that, or was he too busy eyeing the raven-haired songstress? It didn't matter, he supposed. The Lieutenant would figure it out when he couldn't find him in the bar.

Danse fumbled his way up the stairs in a hazy fog and crossed the street. The lobby was dark when he entered the hotel, and he pushed himself up the steps and down the hall to his room. The old key bobbled in his hand until he could grip it firmly, shoving it in the keyhole and hearing the lock snap open. A minute later he was falling onto the dusty mattress with his boots still on.

Just a short nap. Then Olivia would be there and he would show her how much he had missed her company these past days. He fell asleep with a smile on his face as he imagined looking into her eyes and wrapping his arms around her again.

It would be perfect.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Olivia walked into Goodneighbor with a light step, despite the serious events that had taken place over the last month. Everyone had been so busy trying to secure the settlements and answer distress calls for aid, that she and Danse had barely seen one another - mostly in passing and with far too many people present to indulge in much more than some stolen kisses in dark corners of the Castle hallways. But they had two days before Lily was to meet them to head back out to Oberland to look for more clues to who their new enemies were and where they were hiding, and she planned to take advantage of every second of that time with Danse.

She waved to Daisy, who was just arriving to her shop for the morning, and gave a wave of acknowledgement to the guard that was making his way past her in the alley as she turned the corner at the Third Rail. She even nodded to the female ghoul across the street that always seemed to be occupying the same smoking spot.

The woman eyed her with suspicion and it occurred to Olivia that she'd never been this openly friendly, and she shook her head at herself and chuckled.

Love did strange things to people, and she wasn't the only one to notice her recent change in behavior. Lily had stopped her to inquire as to why she was looking so chipper, even commenting on the happy glow radiating from her, and Olivia did nothing but smile. That was the affect Danse had on her.

She hadn't expected things to change much with him. Not really. He was busy with work, focused and determined to protect the Commonwealth. He and Worly hadn't even made it back to Camp Sunshine to train recruits, as they'd been too busy dealing with the latest attacks and building up settlement defenses. But every time they saw one another, even if only for a few minutes, he pulled her into his arms, kissed her breathless and told her she was beautiful.

Olivia was beaming as she opened the door to the Rexford and walked in, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

Today she was going to tell Danse she loved him. She'd been too afraid to say the words before, worried they might scare him off or pressure him into saying them in return. But she couldn't contain her happiness any longer, and the need to tell him how she felt was ready to burst from within.

"You looking for the dark haired one, or the blond?" Claire asked from behind her counter.

"The first."

Claire gave her Danse's room number and she took the stairs two at a time. She knocked on the door and waited, but no one came. She knocked again, thinking he might be in the shower and didn't hear her, but again, no one answered. She tried the knob.

Unlocked. That was odd. Danse never left his door unlocked. Ever.

She pushed the door ajar and peeked inside, listening for any sounds of movement.

"Gabriel? You in here?" Pushing it open further, she stepped inside the room.

The blankets were mussed, and she could see a shape beneath them. Moving to the window, she moved the yellowed drapes aside to let in the sunlight, and turned back to the bed.

As the blankets were lowered and the sleeping person woke, Olivia's eyes rounded and her feet froze to the floor.

"What's going on?" a brunette girl asked as she sat up.

Olivia forgot how to breathe, her eyes fixed on the naked girl occupying the space next to Danse's still sleeping form. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse drumming in her ears. Her nose burned and her throat clenched as her mind listed all the things that were wrong with the image in front of her.

"Uh... Hello?" the skinny bitch snapped her fingers at Olivia and their eyes met. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded to know, her voice high pitched and snotty.

The noise was enough to alert the man at her side, and Danse's eyes fluttered open and he sat up suddenly when he realized there was more than just him in the room. His gaze snagged on Olivia, then on the naked girl next to him, and back to Olivia, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"Who are you?" he asked the girl, "And what the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Are you serious?" the girl snapped. "You sure didn't have a difficult time recalling my name last night, as many times as you were calling it out while we were making a mess of the bed."

Olivia's heart cracked a little.

His eyes rounded and darted to Olivia, who felt her skin getting hotter by the second, her cheeks blazing now with rage. One of these two was in deep shit and didn't know it yet, she just wasn't sure which one.

"If you're implying what I think you are, you must be high on Jet," he growled. "Now find your clothes and get out of my room."

"Why are you mad, honey?" the girl cooed. "You had a good time, and so did I. There's no need to be a jerk about it."

Olivia stood there fuming in silence as she watched Danse shove the girl from the bed and rush to find her garments, throwing them at her and shoving her into the bathroom.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but I assure you, nothing happened."

Who was he trying to convince, the girl or her? It didn't matter. She would find out the truth soon enough.

He turned to Olivia, his eyes pleading, and he warily approached her.

"Olivia, I swear to you, nothing happened. I have no idea who that woman is or how she got here."

She stared into his eyes as he neared, so angry she could spit, yet so hurt by what she'd walked in on that she thought she might shatter. And then time seemed to suddenly stop in front of her as what she was seeing fully registered.

His eyes were glassy, his pupils blown wide. She'd seen effects like those before. Effects of some kind of knockout drug. What was it called? Tripper? Smash? No... Slam. Yes, that's what it was called. It had been cooked up by some wannabe scientist that was more interested in making a buck than making a medicine that would help people.

"What do you remember about last night?" she asked him in a stern voice, still angry, and he noticed.

"I grabbed a couple drinks with Worly and came back here to sleep. That's it."

"You didn't go anywhere else, or see anyone?"

He shook his head. "No, just...." He turned back as he recalled the previous night, and looked at the bathroom door as it clicked open, "her. She was bartending at the Third Rail."

Olivia's eyes narrowed at the thin female, who looked at her with questioning eyes and an innocent expression as she tugged her clothes into place.

"What?"

Olivia was across the room in a flash and shoving her against the wall, one hand wrapped around the woman's throat and the other pulling the pistol from the holster on her thigh and shoving the barrel into the girl's cheek with force.

"Now is the time you wanna loosen that tongue and start sharing the truth, or I'm going to make a hole where there shouldn't be one," Olivia snarled in a low tone so menacing it even scared herself. Or it might later, when she remembered how she reacted.

The girl's eyes rounded and she grabbed at Olivia's hand to pry it off, Danse stepping closer and telling her to keep calm.

"Start talking, or start praying." Olivia pushed the gun harder into the girl's cheek, denting into her skin. The girl swung a fist at Olivia's face in an attempt to make her back off, but Olivia simply leaned her head away and her fingers tightened around the woman's neck. She could feel the tendons against her skin and she snarled. "Tell me what you gave him!"

The girl opened her mouth and tried to laugh, but it came out like a cough instead, and she stuttered, "Fu...ckyou."

Olivia flicked the safety off her weapon and Danse's hand lashed out to grab it away from her, but she elbowed him away.

"Olivia, don't! She's not worth another death on your conscience."

She begged to differ. This scraggly piece of trash had messed with the wrong man. Or rather, she'd messed with the wrong woman's man, because Olivia wasn't about to let some rangy twit like this piece of shit, drug her man and get away with it.

"Back off, Danse. I'm sick and tired of people like her, harming others for the fun of it and not having to reap the consequences. She's going to get what she deserves."

His warm, strong hand wrapped gently around Olivia's gun hand, his other at the small of her back.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, and I agree, she needs to be punished," he whispered mellowly near her ear, "but this is not the way to do it."

How could he be so calm while her insides were mush, her muscles twitching in fury and shaking with adrenaline?

She snapped the safety back in place. "Fine," she loosened her grip. Danse stepped back and the girl took a gulp of air when Olivia's hand left her throat, and Olivia used the opportunity to slam her fist up into the girl's chin as hard as she could and watched her crumple to the floor. "I'll take her to Hancock."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just happened to be listening to "Crazy Possessive" by Kaci Battaglia when I started writing this chapter. Coincidence? lol


	27. Shadow Men

 

Arthur stood on the flight deck of the Prydwen awaiting the arrival of the Vertibird that was bringing his fiancée to the Boston Airport. His hands gripped the cold bar of the railing as he looked out over the ocean beyond to the horizon, letting the chilly breeze numb his skin.

Two days ago he'd told Lily about Aurelia, and he'd slept very little since then. Not that he normally slept well or much, but this business with his betrothal and possibly - no, most likely - losing Lily because of it, had his nerves so wound up that he couldn't relax enough to close his eyes. He was desperate to find a way out. Sleeping would waste precious time that he could be using to discover a solution.

A big white bird flew past the flight deck before swooping down toward the ocean to look for food, drawing Arthur's eyes back towards land and setting them on the Castle in the distance. He could see the repairs to the walls were complete; that last mutant attack had taken a few good-sized chunks from the exterior, but the Minutemen were hard workers, determined to keep their reformed league together. Lily wanted no more repeats of Quincy and no more episodes of the people disbanding just because times were tough. The whole Commonwealth knew that success lay in their hands, and Lily held them accountable.

Arthur breathed in deeply, the crisp air stinging his lungs and sending a shiver through him.

It was refreshing though, just like the vault dweller; A breath of fresh air among the rubble and ruin of the wasteland, that opened his eyes, giving him restored energy and a brighter perspective on the possibilities that lay out there, just waiting to be seized.

He didn't remember much of his childhood before the Citadel. Bits and pieces of it would surface every now and then, but for the most part, his memories were composed of lonely days at the Citadel, reading manuals and books on military tactics, and training with Paladins to be a warrior. At first it hadn't been so bad, when Owen and Sarah were still his guardians. They were serious in his teachings, but they had also given him time to be the boy he was.

After their deaths, everything changed. The next few elders weren't as tolerant of his juvenile dreams. If they remembered that he was just a child it never showed. They gave him no leeway to enjoy just being a young boy who wanted to play in the dirt with his trucks, or climb dead trees and amuse himself with silly comics, or stare at pretty girls. No, they denied him all that. They pushed responsibilities and missions onto his shoulders of those three times his age, always reminding him of the shadow of those he walked in, maintaining that his soul was forged of steel and he needed to conduct himself as such.

A decade later and they were still manipulating his life. It had always bothered him, but he hadn't known there was something better out there to fight for, hadn't even dreamed there was a possibility of finding a bit of happiness in all the destruction he'd been born into.

Now that he'd found that little slice of hope, he wasn't about to let them keep it from him.

The sound of rotor blades chopping the air pulled his attention, and he straightened as he waited for the bird to attach to the Prydwen's landing arm, slowly making his way from the end of the flight deck to the docking area. A power armored Knight hopped down and immediately saluted him.

"At ease, Knight," he said, returning the gesture with an unenthusiastic press of his fist to his sternum.

The soldier turned and extended his arm, the remaining occupant accepting it without delay, her slender hand dwarfed by the metal suit. Her skin was pale and smooth, her long hair slipping over her shoulder in a thick braid as she bent over to drop to the floor of the deck. When she stood up, her warm brown eyes met Arthur's and she smiled politely.

"Elder. I'm elated to see you again," she greeted in a saccharine tone.

He didn't smile in return. How could he? She represented everything he hated - the barrier that stood between him and a life with Lily. "Was your trip smooth?"

If she was offended by his lack of eagerness at seeing her again, her expression didn't show it.

"It was without incident," she said, moving to him with a gracefulness he'd seen in only a few people during his life. She reached for his arm and he crooked his to adhere to decorum, and walked her to the door of the Prydwen's main deck. He ushered her inside and guided her to the upper level, showing her to Danse's old quarters.

"This will be your room while on board," he informed her. "I'll leave you to settle in. If you need anything, there is always a guard posted in the hallway. Just let them know what you need and they'll summon a scribe to aid you."

Aurelia nodded with a gentle smile. "Thank you. Will I see you soon? I think we have much to discuss."

His gut knotted and he suddenly had the urge to bolt from the Prydwen and run as far from the airport as he could get. Instead, he nodded and forced himself to speak.

"I'll have a Vertibird bring you to Fort Strong tomorrow morning. You can tour the grounds while I go over reports and then we'll have lunch together to discuss this...." He nearly said 'absurdity' but he checked himself quickly and said, "engagement."

The harsh light of the Prydwen's interior lamps did nothing to dim her beauty, but Arthur couldn't seem to find it in himself to appreciate it. All he kept thinking was that those brown eyes should be blue, and this person was not who he wished to spend time with.

"Are you not staying aboard the Prydwen?"

"No. I've got quarters at Fort Strong now, and I've much work that needs done. This mission in the Commonwealth is far from over."

"I thought you found the Institute and destroyed it already."

He didn't want to be standing there trading niceties with this stranger, and his patience was wearing thin. Arthur regulated the increasing drive to give an impulsive reply and just leave, and reminded himself that this situation was no more Aurelia's fault that it was his own. It hadn't been her idea to form this...pairing, and she didn't deserve to be treated with disdain.

"We did, but there are still threats out there that must be eliminated if the Commonwealth is to ever have the opportunity to progress. The Brotherhood helped vanquish one, but in the process we've germinated more. We can't leave until the upstanding Commonwealth citizens have a firm foothold."

Aurelia blinked at him with a neutral expression. "And you're working with the Minutemen to do this."

He nodded. "They'll be here long after the Brotherhood departs. It's only common sense that we should make them an ally. Our resources in the Capital won't last forever. We need to expand our reach and replenish our stores."

"True," she conceded, "and yet something tells me that your decision to stay has little to do with the farmers and merchants, and everything to do with the woman who's been leading them for the past year."

Arthur's jaw tightened.

It seemed his suspicion was proven correct. His superiors were keeping tabs on more than just his work performance. They had spies within his ranks feeding them personal information as well, and his suspicions fell on two people in particular. Both Proctor Quinlan and Knight-Captain Cade had access to his private affairs, and both men had much to gain in reward for their allegiance to the Council. Kells was privy to the information as well, but the man already controlled an entire fleet of Brotherhood soldiers. The Prydwen was his one and only love, and he had nothing to gain that he didn't already possess.

"The alliance between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen rests on the shoulders of the leaders. General Ribisi and I must be in cooperation if our factions are to reach our goals. Any conflicts between us would ripple down the ranks and cripple our ability to do our jobs. I have much respect for her and what she's accomplished for the Commonwealth, and there's no reason I should pretend otherwise."

"If etiquette allowed me to make bets, I'd take one that you're in love with her," Aurelia said.

Arthur gave her a hard look and said matter-of-factly, "Then you would certainly collect."

There was no point in denying it, since the Council apparently already knew. They couldn't punish him any more than they already were by forcing this woman upon him and expecting him to comply.

Aurelia's intense eyes studied his face, but betrayed no emotion. "I appreciate your honesty. I hope that when I'm your wife you'll continue to be so. I am not so naive as to think you won't have mistresses, but I would appreciate not being kept in the dark about them and looking like a fool, thinking you're faithful."

That caught Arthur off guard and his brow nearly lifted in surprise.

"Then you'll be happy to know that I have no intention of having mistresses... Because I don't intend on marrying you." He might as well break it to her now. No point in keeping his contempt of the ordeal a secret. "This arrangement was not my idea, nor was I consulted about the possibility. I understand you were chosen because of your upbringing, and my objection has nothing to do with you, personally. My intention is not to offend you, but to be sincere and upfront."

Brown eyes teared up at his words and his stomach flipped with guilt. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he had to be straight with her about his desires. It wasn't fair to her for him to pretend otherwise. Arthur knew he'd never be able to make her happy. They would live out the rest of their lives in misery if he went through with this farce of a marriage. He felt bad for causing her pain, but he just couldn't act as if he was fine with this, and he would never apologize for feeling this way.

"You truly feel that way?" she mumbled.

"I do."

She tossed her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest, soft cries muffled by his battlecoat.

"Thank God," he heard her sob. "I thought I was the only one that despised this stupid engagement."

He took her arms and pushed her away from him. "Wait. You don't want to marry me?"

Aurelia shook her head. "No. You seem like a fine man, but this is not what I want."

"Then why are you here?"

"My father heard the Council was looking for a bride for you and volunteered me. I begged him to retract it, but he said that if I didn't go along with it, he would put me out to fend for myself. I don't know how to survive in the wasteland. I'd be dead within a week. I had no choice but to agree to this."

Arthur stepped over and opened the heavy door to her room. "Then it seems we share the same goal. I suggest we put our heads together to find a way out of this."

The flaxen-haired beauty gave him a bright grin, and for the first time since their introduction, he saw genuine happiness within it. He realized then, that she wasn't the vapid soul he'd thought her to be, and he let out a huge sigh of relief.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Commander Cullen glared at Torch with hatred burning from his eyes, his nostrils flaring like a wild animal.

"Do you realize what you've done?" the man thundered, his voice reverberating off the walls of the room. "We had a nice setup here. Jobs coming in, caps filling our pockets. Now you've fucked everything up!"

Torch didn't really care what the Gunner leader thought, of him or his actions, and he continued to flip through the Grognak comic he'd found during the raid his team had pulled off the previous day.

"Calm down," he groaned, "no one can do anything to us."

Cullen picked up a nearby helmet and through it at him, hitting the magazine in his hands and making him rip off the front cover.

"Are you fucking stupid? You've just put us in the crosshairs of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel! It's bad enough you killed all those settlers at the marina and drew attention from the Minutemen, but now you've gone too goddamn far."

Torch crumpled the damaged magazine in his hands and threw it in a fire barrel that sat close by, pissed off that this pansy ass prick was trying to scold him like some sniveling little worm he could push around.

"Why doesn't it surprise me that you're afraid of those assholes in garbage cans?"

"Because I'm not an idiot," Cullen replied, snarling. "Taking out a handful would be no big deal if they were here all on their own. Have you forgotten there's an entire fleet of them docked at the fucking airport? Taking out that patrol squad just guaranteed they're going to come for our heads."

Torch shrugged. "Then we'll fight back. We've got the weapons to do it."

"A few missile launchers and some fat men might put up a good fight for a while, but we don't have the personnel to pull off a war with those bastards. Once our manpower is depleted, we're fucked!"

Too bad for the Gunners, then. Torch didn't bother telling Cullen that he already had replacements waiting in the wings. He moved away to sift through a box of old files and burnt documents, looking for something else to pass the time.

"Then I guess you better start recruiting."

"Fuck you, you ignorant piece of shit," Cullen screamed. "Our deal is off. Take your sorry ass Claws and get the fuck out of my territory. If I see you in the Commonwealth again, you're a dead man."

Torch turned back slowly to face him, an amused curl to his lips. "You're threatening me?"

"Not threatening. Promising. Now get your people and the get the hell out of my place."

Torch smiled and nodded. "All right. But I'm telling you now...you burn this bridge, you won't have anyone to back you up when the Brotherhood comes to mow you down."

"I don't plan on sticking my head up for them to cut it off."

Figures, the chickenshit would go into hiding. Well, that was okay with Torch. He had other things to do than worry about Cullen. That shitbag would get what was coming to him soon enough. First, he had to deal with the Minutemen leaders. He couldn't seem to catch them on their own to get his hands on them. But Mags had come up with a plan, and had sent her little she-devil in to stir up trouble. It wouldn't take long until those bitches were at each others throats. Once that union was fractured, they'd be easy pickings.

Best of all, he'd been informed that the Grimaldi cunt was still alive. The news had made every frustration of the past fourteen months worth putting up with, because when he got his hands on her, she was going to offset every single one of them with her cries of pain and anguish.

Damn, he was looking forward to that day.

 


	28. What, No Roses?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really nervous about this chapter and considered re-writing it again (for the fifth time), but I'm just gonna bite the bullet and post it as is.  
> *crossing my fingers you'll like it* but I won't hold my breath. :/
> 
>  
> 
> Apologies for any format errors. I switched formatting for easier reading and for some reason, parts of the text don't want to cooperate with the new layout. *grrr*

Before her eyes even opened she could hear voices nearby, but the words escaped her, muted, as if she was listening through a wall with her ear pressed to the barrier. But she could feel people there, sense their presence surrounding her as she slowly regained her thoughts.  

What had happened? Why was she on the floor?  

She tried to move, but her limbs didn't seem to be aware of the directions her brain was sending to them, yet the pain that streaked through her jaw was the stimulus that brought her eyes wide open and her pulse skittering in panic.

And then her eyes saw the boots near her head and lifted up the face of the person who wore them. Fire burned from within them as the woman stared at her with a set jaw and her arms crossed, and she recalled those fierce eyes glaring into her just before everything had gone black.  

"Morning there, Sunshine," a raspy voice greeted her, and she looked over to see a ghoul in a tricorn hat crouching next to her, watching her with curious black eyes. "Heard you tried to pull a fast one on my friends. I gotta say, I'm either impressed you had the nerve to do that shit in my town, or pissed you expected to get away with it."  

Her mouth felt thick and dry when she tried to speak, her tongue wearing a fuzzy coat of bewilderment. How long had she been out?  

"Who're you?" she managed to mumble.  

The ghoul looked unimpressed, though unoffended. "Hancock, Goodneighbor Mayor. Now, how about you tell me who you are."  

She glanced up at the woman standing over her again, licking her tingling lips as she sat up, sliding her back across the wall behind her; It wasn't easy, her hands and been bound behind her and the fastenings were much too tight to escape from.  

Her eyes slid back to the ghoul who was waiting patiently for an answer. "Lizzie."  

"Where are you from, Lizzie?" he asked, "I haven't seen you in Goodneighbor before."  

He seemed genuinely interested in knowing, not merely inquiring to gain information. She hadn't known many ghouls in her life, and she sometimes wondered what they'd been like before they'd been turned by radiation. She imagined that having that happen to a person would change how they thought and felt about the world; maybe they would take on a harsher demeanor, or become uncaring and vicious, like their exterior. If they did, then this man certainly didn't fit that mold. He seemed far too caring and concerned.  

"I'm not from around here," she decided to say.  

"What was your intention on drugging Danse?" the woman asked.

She took a deep breath, contemplating her predicament. It was fairly clear that her mission had utterly failed, despite her success at drugging the big man Mags had targeted. The plan had been fairly simple. First, spike his drink and sleep with him, then make sure his lady found out about it. The boss wanted them at each other's throats and unwilling to work together.  

Unfortunately, things hadn't quite gone according to plan. She'd never gotten the chance to do more than peel his boots off and climb into his bed, as he'd been out cold the entire night.  

The boss would not be pleased. The woman was deceptively calm and collected, but when someone fucked up and it cost her caps or territory... This little fuck up wasn't going to put Lizzie in the boss's good will. And now that she'd been caught, it wasn't likely that her boss would send someone to rescue her. Lackeys were replaceable and numerous, and the boss didn't need her any more than she needed another hole in her head.  

Was there an advantage to keeping her mouth shut here? If there was, she couldn't see it.  

She'd obviously miscalculated this time. One, the dose she'd given him had been too much. It wasn't her fault, really, as there didn't seem to be a standard measure or average results that she'd been able to find. Not yet. The formula was still too new. Not only did everyone reacted to it differently, the same dose didn't always produce the same degree of results. Her trials had seen some satisfying effects, but the formula was far from accurate or regulated.  

Not only had the drug had unwelcome results, but the dark-haired man's lady had not reacted to situation at all like they'd thought she would. Instead of immediately jumping to conclusions and raging at him with accusations of cheating, she'd instead inferred that the entire situation was not as it appeared.

How? A picture spoke a thousand words, or so the saying went. According to the boss' plan, the bitch should've attacked him on the spot without hesitation for what she'd found in that room.  

Lizzie shrugged. "I was just doing as I was told."  

"By who?" the ghoul asked. "For what purpose?"  

Lizzie stared at the floorboards in front of her, trying to will her now throbbing head to stop pounding. "Mags Black sent me to crack the partnerships between the General of the Minutemen and her friends," she admitted, and watched the pair give each other a look before facing her again. "I don't know why, so don't ask."  

"Who is Mags Black?" the brunette asked.  

There was no point keeping them from the information they wanted to know. Mags wasn't hiding, and she sure as hell wasn't afraid of any of them. Not with hundreds of fighters at her back.  

"She runs the Operators in Nuka World."  

"Never heard of the Operators before," Hancock said and stood up, "but I'm fairly sure I know who Mags Black is. Originally from Diamond City, if the Jet ain't damaged my memory." He chuckled. "Well...too much, anyway."

"What does she want with the Commonwealth?" the brunette wanted to know.  

"I take it she's not interested in spreading good will towards men," Hancock grated.  

Lizzie laughed at that, and her head throbbed at the sound, turning it into a pain-filled groan.  

"Her only interest in the Commonwealth is to get her hands on as many caps as she can and set up her own little world. Your General is in a heap of shit," she told them.  

Boots scuffed the floorboards as the woman made a move toward her, but the ghoul reached out and grabbed her by the arm and warned her off, saying he'd handle things from there.  

"Go find Danse and warn Lily." He squatted next to her again and pulled a box of Mentats from the inside of his red coat as the woman left. "And take MacCready with you," he added as she stepped through the doorway. "She might need the extra gun."  
   
 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Lily was in a panic by the time Olivia and MacCready reached the Castle. Danse was having a hard time keeping her calm, and he was running out of supportive and encouraging things to say. When Olivia walked around the corner and stepped into the meeting room, Danse audibly let out a sigh of relief. When Lily saw her, the woman jumped to her feet and rushed to her.  

"He's gone, Olivia! I can't find him anywhere! You've got to help me look for him!"  

Olivia rested her hands on Lily's shoulders and shushed her. "Whoa whoa whoa, slow down. Who's missing?"  

Tears began to roll down Lily's face. "Felix! He wasn't at home when I went to get him for dinner. I've looked all over the Castle and in all his favorite spots outside. He's gone!"  

Olivia pulled the General into her embrace. "It's going to be okay. I'll find him. Just calm down and we'll take another look."

Lily nodded and Danse followed them back out the front gate towards little cabin on the pond, passing a rattled MacCready as they went. Olivia stopped at the end of the plank pier and looked around the ground for a few minutes. She walked along slowly, her eyes flowing over every detail she could find, trying to fit the pieces into a puzzle.  

Danse watched her keenly, forever amazed at the skill set Olivia possessed and proud that a woman like her would even consider being with a man like him. Honestly, no matter how many times he told himself that he wasn't a monster, there would always be a small part of him that would question it - that would remind him he was a synth. He would spend the rest of his life making up for it, but the nagging insecurity would always be there in the darkness to remind him that he would never be fully human.  

Olivia was moving off to the west now, her head down and her feet stepping carefully. A few feet away from the semi-trailer she stopped and looked up at the back of it before her head turned back to the little group watching her. She motioned them with a hand and they approached.  

Danse heard Lily let out a cry as her eyes caught what Olivia had found for them.  

An old piece of paper, torn around one of the edges as if it had been ripped from a book, hung from the door of the trailer, a switchblade stabbed through it to keep it in place.  

Lily jerked the knife out and removed the paper to read it, and a strangled sob escaped her.  

"Someone took him. They want me to come to their camp and exchange. Me for Felix."  

"Lily, you can't!" MacCready said. "You can't trust them to let him go. You can't even be sure he's there!"  

The General turned to the merc and snarled. "And you would just leave your son in the hands of brigands and killers?"  

Danse didn't even know MacCready had a kid, but by the look on his face, the statement was true.

"Sorry," he heard the man say quietly. "I didn't mean we should forget about him and leave him there, but... Olivia and I will go ahead and scout it out. If he is there, then we can make a plan to get him out."  

Lily shook her had. "There's no time for that. They want me there by sunrise. I've got to go."  

Danse caught the look Olivia threw his way, and his stomach dropped when he saw it, because he knew that it meant whatever was going through her mind right then, he wasn't going to like it.  

"MacCready is right, Lily," she agreed. "The Minutemen need you here. Mac and I will take care of it. I'm not negotiating your life with a bunch of cutthroat raiders. If we find Felix, we'll get him out. I swear it."  

Lily argued. Danse wanted to join in, but he knew Olivia well enough to know that once she'd made up her mind, she wouldn't be talked out of it. Especially if she had the skinny merc at her back. Still, he didn't like their odds.  

"I'm coming too," he decided. "And we should--"  

"No, Danse," Olivia cut in. "If we fail, I don't want you anywhere near that place."  

His eyes narrowed at her. "Why not? What are you planning that you're not telling me?"  

She came to him then, pulling him a little way off before pushing her arms around his torso and pressing her face into the crook of his neck while she hugged him. His arms slid around her without question, but the uneasy feeling that came to him then sent a shiver up his spine. He felt her press her lips to his skin and his eyes closed, fear slowly cascading down his body from head to foot.  

"This is a trap, plain and simple. With you and Lily out of the way the Minutemen don't stand a chance on stopping them. I'm not letting you or Lily walk into it. The Commonwealth needs you, Danse. It needs capable, caring people to set the groundwork for the future. You're too important to risk either of you for this. Mac and I will handle it, and if something happe--"  

"Don't talk like that, Olivia, please," he breathed and pushed a stray tendril of her wavy hair behind her ear.  

"Listen to me," she touched her palms to the sides of his face, making him look her in the eye. "I've wanted to say this to you for the past week, but there just never seemed a good time. Danse..." she smiled softly and whispered, "Gabriel... You've made me the happiest I've ever been. I want you to know that."  

Danse felt his throat constrict as her words began to sound more and more like a goodbye speech instead of a vow to return.  

"You're the bravest, most honorable man I've ever known, and I consider myself the luckiest woman in the world to have spent time with you."

"Olivia...please don't do this," he managed to croak out. "Don't talk to me like you aren't coming back."  

"I have no intention of dying out there, but we both know life isn't guaranteed. I just want you to know, in case I can't make it back... I love you, Gabriel Danse, and I always will."  

He tucked her into his chest and squeezed her tight, never wanting to let go. Was there anything he could say that would make her change her mind? He doubted it. She'd been protecting Lily from the day the vault dweller had stepped out of the ground and would likely be doing it until the day the General was put back into it. He knew Olivia, and he knew she wouldn't stop fighting, wouldn't stop putting herself in danger to save others. It's one of the reasons he had fallen for her.

He pressed a kiss to her lips, then another and another before pulling back and pressing his forehead to hers.  

"I need you to come back to me, Olivia. I don't want to live this life without you."  

"I will do my best," she pledged, pulling back. "After I've gone, I want you to tell Lily that I've decided you should know now," she told him, wiping her eyes.

"Know what?"  

She pulled her rifle around on its sling, gripping it in her hands. "My secret." And he watched a worried smile whisper across her lips.  

He hadn't been aware they still had any secrets between them, so the statement took him by surprise, but he nodded.  

"Don't take any unnecessary risks out there, Olivia."  

She promised not to, then took the note from Lily and warned them to be on high alert, before walking back to him for one last kiss. Then she and MacCready walked off into the fading light of the approaching night. He watched her disappear into the crowded houses of the city, debating whether or not to defy her wishes and go after her anyway. A little while later he felt Lily's hand on his arm and he turned to follow her back into the Castle.

"She's right you know," Lily told him.  

"About what?" he asked as they walked inside the gate.  

"What a great man you are, and how happy you've made her."  

That made him smile, despite his worry. It was more satisfying than he'd ever thought possible, knowing that his life was making someone else happy. Is that why she wanted him to know her secret now? Because she hadn't fully trusted him before this?  

"She said you knew her secret, and that she wanted me to know now. What was she talking about?"

Danse saw Lily's step falter as they passed down the steps into the Castle hallway near the Rec room.  

"Let's grab a beer from the kitchen and I'll tell you."  

His brow creased. "O...kay. Why can't you just tell me now?"  

She continued on, retrieving their beers and leading him back to the big room. "Trust me when I say, you want to be sitting down for this."  

If asked, he wouldn't have denied how nervous Lily's behavior was making him, and her words were not helping. He couldn't even begin to contemplate what Olivia's secret might be, nor did he want to.    

Danse dropped into a wide red chair and waited for Lily to take a seat.

What he wanted, was for Lily to just tell him already, so he could process the news and come to terms with it. He doubted it would change how he felt about the woman he loved. Not after everything they'd been through and knew about one another. Even though a lot of her past was still a mystery, he trusted her enough to know that if there was something unsavory in it, she was a different person now, so the past didn't matter.    

Right?  

"All right, I'm sitting. Now tell me."  

She wriggled into her chair and popped the cap off her beer, taking a sip before answering. "Olivia just learned that she's pregnant."


	29. Dead Man's Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for a week or two. I'm all caught up w/editing and have to start writing new chapters. Hopefully my coffee-fueled brain will crank them out quickly, because I really want to finish this one and get to work the others. :)

 

Once, back when he was a Knight and had just been issued his suit of power armor, Paladin Krieg had been training them in a marshy area so the squad could get used to working as a team while fighting the elements and dealing with less than optimal situations for their gear. The ground they had passed over was far too moist and soft, and had begun to break away at the footfalls of the first two soldiers to pass over it. As soon as Danse had stepped on the flimsy earth, the weight of his new suit shifted it and the entire section had given way, dropping him down an embankment and into the water below.

Without his helmet secured to keep the water out, and without secure footing or a place to grab onto to haul himself out, Danse had nearly drowned. The cold water had rushed in around him inside the suit, flowing up over his chin and into his nose, blocking the air from his lungs. He'd tipped back his head just before it was covered to take one last gulp of air, and as the seconds ticked away and the muffled sounds of his brothers rushing to rescue him rumbled all around him, time slowed to crawl, moving along like a flip book animation, turning in slow motion. His eyes stung, his lungs burned. Water chilled him from the outside in, and his mind stilled. Fear was there, somewhere, but it was masked by the disbelief at what was happening to him. All he could think was that it was wrong. So wrong.

As Danse sat in the oversized chair in the chilly recreation room of the Castle across from Lily, those same feelings washed over him again. He could hear the laughter of other Minutemen drifting down the concrete halls from the dining area, and the sounds of the guards footfalls as they went along on their rounds, echoing faintly across the floors, but his mind was numb and half aware as Lily's words slowly repeated through his brain and it all seemed so far away.

For long moments he couldn't even put letters together to form words, as his thoughts tumbled around and around, alternating between bewilderment, amazement and disbelief.

Olivia was pregnant. She was having a baby! Olivia was having a child. His baby. No...wait. That...couldn't be right. How was she pregnant?

After a few minutes, he managed to find his voice to ask. "Is she certain she's with child? How is this even possible?"

Lily's right cheek squished up as her eyebrows dropped, and she huffed. "Come on, Danse, you're a big boy. Surely you know how babies are made."

He shook his head. "That's not what I mean." He stood up and set his untouched beer on the little table by the door, and inadvertently began pacing back and forth with a frown, repeating over and over, "I'm a synth. Everyone knows synths can't reproduce."

Which only left one explanation, as the little voice in the back of his mind eagerly pointed out to him - the same voice that quietly hissed at him from the depths of his conscience to remind him that he was a monster. The same voice that he had to silence every day that he woke up as he tried to move on with the identity he now had.

Danse halted facing the doorway of the courtyard and stared out across the expanse to the other side of the Castle to where the bunks were. Olivia had sworn nothing had happened between her and Worly, but...

Oh god, he felt sick, his stomach churning with trepidation. Why would she lie to him about that? Unless it wasn't Worly. She'd been with Deacon - she'd admitted as much just a few weeks back. Was the timing right? How far along was she? Did it matter whether it was Deacon or Worly? The result was the same.

Lily stood up and came to stand next to him, touching his arm, and he flinched at the feel of her warm hand on his skin.

"Stop that," she ordered. "I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. Olivia swore to me it's yours."

He turned to face her with a snap. "I'm a goddamn synth, Lily! Even your Railroad friends will tell you we can't have kids. It's a known fact! How can you believe her?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "How can you not? She loves you!"

"I guess that was a lie too, considering the proof otherwise is growing inside her," he scoffed. The words sounded cruel spilling from his mouth, and tasted filthy on his tongue, but the feeling of betrayal and pain of humiliation spurred them on. "The more plausible answer is that someone else is the father and she just doesn't have the guts to tell me."

Lily punched him in the chest. It was solid, but there was no power behind it, and it didn't affect him in the least.

"She told you about her past, Danse. She trusted you enough to give you her heart, and this is how you react? Instead of leaping for joy at the prospect of having a family, you accuse her of sleeping around?" Her blond hair bounced in the ponytail behind her head as she shook it at him. "I thought you'd learned to keep an open mind. I thought you loved her."

Danse closed his eyes. His entire body shaking like a leaf now.

"I want to, but this is just too improbable. Why would _I_ be able to produce offspring, yet thousands more of my kind cannot? It just doesn't make sense. It's unrealistic, and it's foolish to think that out of all of us, _I_ am a special case."

She offered another explanation. "Then maybe Quinlan was wrong about the DNA match, after all."

He knew better than to even consider that. Quinlan wasn't the head scribe because he looked good in glasses that gave people the impression he was intelligent. The man was proficient in everything he did. There had never been a time where he'd neglected to confirm his findings, or misread multiple results.

His eyes drifted back across the yard toward the dim lights shining in the bunkhouse, suddenly feeling deflated and far too fragile to argue any longer. He knew there was no point. Nothing would ever make him human. Nothing would ever change him into a man that deserved a home; a family. He was nothing more than a walking piece of machinery.

"Just let it go, Lily," his voice rustled, low and lethargic. "The truth is staring me right in the face. Facts are facts, and there's no more reason to debate this." He picked up his weapon and walked out into the dark. "I'm going back to Sunshine."

He didn't even care if she'd heard him or not. His only thought, as he passed through the gates and disappeared into the night, was that he should have known that trying to pretend he could get away with living a human life would blow up in his face. Again.

 

* * *

 

 

  
There were thirteen of the bastards. It was a decent number of filth to go up against, and normally Olivia wouldn't have even thought twice about facing them head on, but things had changed. She had something to live for now.

No...she had two reasons to live; Danse, and the little being that was nestled deep inside her belly. The days of taking risks and carelessly endangering her life were over. She couldn't chance being injured now, or worse. It wasn't just her body any more, she was sharing it with a tiny person who had already stolen her heart. She had to be careful now.

In the note the kidnappers had left for Lily they'd called themselves the Arlington Claws - as if that was supposed to mean something to anyone. From what Danse and Maxson had told them at their meetings, these fools had been part of a group of bloodthirsty mercenaries called Talon Company, and while Danse assured them the gang was not as well equipped or tactical as the Gunners, they were far more dangerous than normal raiders, because of their half-crazed viciousness and disregard for even their own lives.

Which meant that Olivia would have to play this smart. And prudently. She'd need to be alert and one step ahead of the assholes if she meant to get Felix, herself and Mac out of there in one piece.

And she most certainly meant to do that.

As luck would have it, Lily had come through once again. She'd somehow convinced Maxson to send a squad of knights to back them up. When the Vertibird had crested the hill behind her and Mac not more than an hour back, Olivia could hardly believe her eyes. The four power-armored Knights had dropped from the bird into the middle of the road and approached them with a friendly wave. Of course, Mac had tossed her a look of impatient aggravation, but Olivia had shushed him and welcomed the aid.

The squad leader, Knight Nicols, had informed her that Maxson had ordered them to accompany the pair to rescue Felix, and that they were to follow her lead and bring them all back safely.

"You do realize that Felix is the boy General Ribisi saved from the Institute," she'd reminded them. Olivia didn't want anyone going into this to later claim they'd been duped into saving a synth and start trouble between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood. Not after all Lily had done to form an alliance.

Shocker....they'd all known coming into this. Maxson had already informed them all and asked for volunteers for this mission. From what Knight Nicols told her, only a handful of soldiers had shied away from the task.

"It's a kid, whether it's fully human or not," Nicols had said. "We don't leave kids to die at the hands of scum."

That was good enough for Olivia, and she'd made a plan.

Now here she stood, a good fifteen feet from the man who'd kidnapped Felix - or at least, the man who'd ordered it - and refused to let her fear get the best of her. She had Mac up on the hill behind her, watching over her like a guardian angel. And Maxson's Brotherhood of Steel soldiers were just a shout away. She'd be okay. They would all be okay.

"You wanted an exchange," she told the man at the head of the bunch, her gun hand dangling near the grip of her Beretta, "so here I am, ready to trade."

"Maybe I changed my mind," the man replied with a grin full of broken teeth. "I think I'll keep you both, so go ahead an drop your weapon and walk on over here so we can tie you up."

"You mean 'string her up'," another man cackled from the back of the group, and Olivia heard the thwack of someone slapping him upside the head and his cuss carried across the camp on the morning breeze.

"I'm not in the mood for parties today, but thanks. Now, let the kid walk."

The man laughed and turned to motion to the woman holding Felix by the shoulders. She shoved him toward her leader and Felix stumbled against his rope restraints, nearly falling. The man reached out and yanked him upright by the shirt, ripping the collar and momentarily strangling him. Felix coughed, his eyes rounded in terror.

"It's okay, Felix. I'm here to take you home," Olivia told him calmly and gave him the most encouraging smile she could muster up, under the circumstances.

The leader snorted and shoved the boy so that he fell on his hands and knees in the muck.

"He's not going anywhere, and neither are you." Nearly a dozen weapons raised to point at her, and Olivia's heart lurched into her throat.

 _Fuck_.

She had to get Felix away from them before Mac could give the signal to the Brotherhood men to rush in and wipe the place clean. How was she supposed to do that with a dozen guns aimed at her head and Felix trussed up like a fat chicken ready for a spit?

Obviously the purpose of this little soiree had nothing to do with a ransom, so these pricks had to be connected to the same person that Lizzie back in Goodneighbor was working for. That was the only thing that made sense. If the girl could be believed, the whole purpose was to drive a wedge between the members of the Minutemen, ruin the General's life and make her cut ties with the Brotherhood. Without a leader, the Minutemen would fall apart again, and the settlements would be less inclined to work with the Brotherhood. Once that broken, Maxson would have no choice but to vacate the Commonwealth. Without cooperation from the locals, his supplies would rapidly diminish and he would be forced to leave. Then this Mags Black would just swagger on into the Commonwealth and take over.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. Not if there was something Olivia could do to stop it.

She reached up to lift the sling of her rifle over her head, using the motion to mask her true intent. As she held the rifle in her left hand by her thigh, she used her teeth to pull the pin of the grenade she'd extracted from the pack at her hip, and held it up.

Someone off to her right saw it first and yelled at the leader. "Torch! She's got a grenade!"

"Here's the thing," Olivia told him, "I don't like your terms, and I suggest that if you don't want to become part of the landscape in the next few seconds, you cut the kid loose and let him go. You want me, fine, but not the kid."

Torch, or whatever his name was, grinned back. "You're bluffing. You wouldn't risk the kids' life just to blow me up."

Olivia didn't even need to lie counter that.

"Well, that's where you're wrong. See, here's what you don't understand. If you hurt him, I have no reason not to blow us all to hell. If you won't let him go, then we're going to go out my way, not yours. If the kid has to die, then we're going out together."

"You're fucking crazy," Torch spat.

She shrugged. "Not the first time I've heard that."

It happened to be true, though her reckless feats of insanity had nothing to do with her mental health and everything to do with the amount of compassion in her heart for those she was trying to protect, but these fuckers didn't need to know that.

Torch looked around his camp at the fighters waiting to see what he'd do, then he glared at her and picked up a machete from a nearby crate. "Fine, you want the kid set loose, he's loose. But you," he sneered at her, "I'm gonna play with for a long while."

As soon as the ropes slipped from Felix's legs he scrambled away from the camp and headed for Olivia, the remaining ropes slipping from his hands as he bolted. When his arms wrapped around her waist, she used her left arm to hug him, her eyes never leaving the enemies that watched her suspiciously. She whispered low and told Felix to run behind her to the hill and find Mac, and that he no matter what he heard, he wasn't to look back. Just run.

She felt him nod and slip away, and Torch growled, "You got what you wanted, now put the pin back in the lob and toss the gun."

"In a minute. I don't want him shot in the back the second I put this away."

Seconds ticked by in tense silence as Olivia estimated how far Felix had to go before he was behind cover. The second she heard the crack of a sniper rifle and saw Torch's head explode like an overripe gourd, Olivia threw the grenade and dived behind the nearest rock.

Suddenly the entire area was filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Bullets ricocheted off the rocks around her, and Olivia ducked into the crevice and tucked her head as a hail of gunfire was aimed in her direction. Then red beams of light streaked past her, and the sound of a minigun whirring to life caressed her ears. The claws took aim at the armored soldiers, and Olivia was able to dash to a more secure location and take out a few of the fighters near where the Talon leader had fallen. She'd never been so damn happy to see the Brotherhood of Steel, and she swore if she made it out of this, every one of those can-wearing bastards was getting a big fat kiss.

She might just have to give Maxson one, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, dear. I'm so evil. Push 'em together and rip 'em apart, just to do it all over again. Ugh. I need to set the Devil's Trident down and let them have some peace. lol


	30. A House Built of Steel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it looks like I underestimated myself. This chapter rolled out rather quickly (not nearly the 1-2 wks I assumed it would take), so I'm going to go ahead and post it.  
> Remember this is AU/Canon divergence, so don't get your knickers in a twist if it shocks you. :P  
> @Paladin Bailey... This chapter is for you! I hope you approve!  
> :D

 

For the second time in the span of a week, Arthur was facing an announcement of his intentions, and again, he was both apprehensive and eager at what it might bring.

He had ordered every Brotherhood soldier not currently out on mission or laid up with injuries to report to the airport, where several Paladins had been instructed to put them in formation out in the empty field to attend his address to the troops. General Ribisi and just over a hundred of her Minutemen were also attending, but Arthur noticed that Danse was not among them, and he swallowed his disappointment. He'd been hoping his friend would be there to hear what he had to say, and would offer his support.

As he stepped onto the platform, Arthur ran his eyes over those who would be standing with him, and he hoped most - if not all of them - would be standing there when he was finished. Lily was on the far left next to Proctor Ingram and Knight-Captain Cade, her Minuteman uniform proudly displayed for all to see. Then Lancer-Captain Kells, and Proctor Quinlan were next, with Aurelia at the far right end, the salty breeze coming in off the ocean gently moving her golden locks and ruffling her pale pink dress. She offered him a supportive smile as he moved to the center to speak, and he nodded in thanks.

The Minutemen were lined up closest to the parking garage, and his own soldiers covered the expanse of the cleared field, all eager faces waiting to hear what he had to say. There was a lot to tell them, and he knew it was time. He couldn't avoid taking the risk any longer. He had to put his neck out there and see where the axe fell. He only hoped his head would still be attached to his shoulders after it landed.

Arthur stood on the high platform and faced his people, his shoulders back, his head up, eyes stern and his mind clear. He raised a hand and everyone quieted, shifting into attentive stances. He let his eyes roam over the sea of faces as his hand dropped to his side, and he took a deep breath to speak.

"Most of you remember the years before my appointment as Elder. You'll recall how Elder Lyons shifted the Brotherhood's focus," he reminded them. "Instead of hoarding technology, he used it to benefit humanity. He let outsiders into our ranks and opened our doors to give and receive aid. Some of you haven't forgotten the Outcasts - those of us who believed Elder Lyons to be weak and foolish. Those that splintered away because their belief in the old methods - of confiscating technology only for themselves and refusing to help their fellow man - prevented them from seeing that the Brotherhood was dying out."

He let his eyes scan over the crowd in a serious pause.

"When I worked to bring our broken pieces back together, I did so because I believed in our cause. And I still do. Yet the Brotherhood is no closer to our original goal than it was two centuries ago! Has the Council stopped to ask themselves why that is? No! They simply batten down the hatches and hide in their holes, dictating to the rest of us what should and shouldn't be done. For two centuries the Brotherhood has had one main goal; to prevent humanity from destroying itself. A noble quest, but one that has cost the lives of countless brothers and sisters. What have we gained to show for those losses? Vermin continue to scatter across the wasteland, threatening our lives. We cut off one head and more rise up in their place."

He turned and pointed toward the crater in Boston.

"The Brotherhood came to the Commonwealth for one purpose; To uproot the cancer that was growing beneath its surface, and with the aid of the brave people who live here, we accomplished that goal."

There were some hoots and a few calls of _Ad Victoriam_ from random spots throughout the crowd, and Arthur waited until they passed. Mostly though, the crowd stood in silence.

"One enemy is no more, but many others still remain. If we are to build a better world for our future generations, then our work is not finished. The Brotherhood of Steel will continue to fight. But we can't do it alone. And simply confiscating technology is not working."

Arthur moved a bit closer to the railing, wrapping his nervous hands around it so no one would see them shake.

"War never changes, but the way in which we fight it must! The East Coast chapter has continued to accept new blood into our ranks, and we have flourished because of Lyon's perspective. Our numbers are strong and continue to grow, and we'll need that in order to keep fighting. But we cannot battle our enemies with our old principles. Something has to change, and if we are to survive and make a future for our children, and our children's children, that something has to be _**us**_!"

Murmurs rushed through the crowd, and Arthur's pulse jumped, his heart racing faster in his chest, but he contained his delivery to a composed discourse.

"It is said that 'insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.' Yet that is exactly what the Brotherhood of Steel has been doing for two hundred years. I've let old men who hide away from the world and cling in fear to their strict rules, dictate what I've done. It's taken me a long time to see that the world is not the black and white palette they raised me to believe. They made me into an idol, and pushed me onto a pedestal I never wanted to grace. They thought they could control me like a puppet on a string. But they were wrong."

Arthur's voice was starting to turn hoarse from yelling across the expanse, but he was determined to make his beliefs known before all hell broke loose, and he pressed on. "I am but a man, with dreams and hopes of my own, and I will no longer be played and controlled by old men who cannot bear to see that the old ways are dead."

He could feel the tensions and uncertainty all around him now, and his pulse was thrumming crazily in his chest, but he kept his voice steady and assertive. He turned to Aurelia and lifted his hand to her, and she moved to his side in a flutter of willowy robes and sunshine, her smile bright and her eyes dancing with excitement.

"The Elder Council believe they know what's best for not only the future of our order, but for me personally. They took it upon themselves to betroth me to this woman, then sent her to me without my knowledge, in the expectation we would marry. Ms. Woodruff and I have agreed that neither of us is willing to be their pawn any longer, and have called off our engagement. I will be sending the Elder Council my intention of withdrawal this afternoon, from the marriage, and from the Council's authority. The East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel is declaring cessation."

Faces in the crowd carried unabashed shock and confusion, and people whispered back and forth in disbelief, but no one had yet to voice resistance.

"You followed me when I stepped into this position, and I hope you'll follow me now. The choice is yours. I expect those of you who broke away once before will feel betrayed by this new vision I have for our future, and you will forsake us again. It will sadden me to see you go, but I understand that not everyone can accept that beliefs, people and tactics must adapt in order to conquer."

He finished with, "If you have questions, now is the time to ask."

Silence only lasted a few seconds before Proctor Ingram spoke from behind him. "Are you changing your stance on synths, then?"

He glanced back at her, gauging her expression. He couldn't read it. She'd always been very good at keeping her inner thoughts from being expressed on her face. Now was no different.

"Concerning synths like Danse, that is correct. In the last eight months since the Institute was defeated, I have seen no evidence that the Generation Three synths are any more of a danger to us than Raiders, Gunners or mutants. They can think for themselves, whether we want them to or not. If they can do that, then they can choose to be our allies. If they would rather bear arms against us, then they will die just like the rest of our enemies. The two earliest versions, however, are fair game."

"Fine by me," Ingram shrugged, "one Initiate handing me a wrench is just as good as the next, in my book."

Proctor Quinlan harrumphed, but when Arthur looked over the man didn't meet his gaze.

"What about the West Coast Brotherhood? Won't they declare war on us, Sir?" a Knight in the front asked loud enough for the soldiers a few rows behind him to hear.

"I imagine so," he admitted. "But unless they miraculously grow their numbers in the next few years, or somehow join forces with all the other Brotherhood chapters, I can't see how they would be much of a threat."

"What about Danse?" someone else inquired. "Will he be rejoining our ranks?"

"No. Danse has a new place where he is needed. But his presence among us with the Minutemen won't change. If that's a problem for anyone, they'll be dismissed."

"What about the Citadel?" another soldier asked. "Will we be going back?"

"Of course," Arthur assured them. "The Citadel is our home, and no one will take that from us. But our work here is unfinished. Once we get these new threats handled, we can return."

He looked over everyone around him, then back to the crowd.

"Now is the time to make your decision. Will you follow me? Will you take a chance on the road in which I want to lead? There is no room for doubts or suspicions. You're either with me, or you're not. So... Which will it be?"

He faced the crowd, his head up, his gaze proudly waiting for their ruling. On the outside he presented a confident front, but on the inside, where no one could see, Arthur was wracked with uncertainty, and worry clawed at him like a rabid dog.

Had he pushed them too far? Had he crossed the boundary they were willing to follow? Did they think him mad or inadequate to be their elder?

Ingram stepped up behind him and put her power-armored hand on his shoulder. "I'm with you, Sir. Wherever you lead, I'll follow."

He gave her a sharp nod. "I appreciate your faith in me, Proctor. Thank you." She nodded in reply and stepped away.

"Well, I didn't see any of the members of the Elder Council out collecting pieces of metal until their hands were bleeding and their backs were too sore to straighten," Kells added from behind Arthur's right shoulder, referring to the countless hours every soldier at the Citadel had spent gathering materials for the Prydwen's construction. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Count me in, Sir," a Knight at the front chimed in. "Danse saved my ass more than once, so if you want to change the rules on that, I really don't care. As long as our goal is to save humanity and help people, I'm good to go."

"Same here," Paladin Anders echoed from off to the side. "If it weren't for Danse, I'd have been dead a long time ago. He risked his neck coming for me when I was pinned down. No one else did that. Synth be damned, the man's a hero," the soldier told his fellow fighters and turned to face them. "You all know it. Hell, he either saved or trained half of us, and the other half know of at least one person who he saved. If you can't change your views and follow Elder Maxson based on that alone, then you shouldn't fucking be here!"

Arthur listened to the rumbles spread over the field as the opinions of these men floated through the crowd and he could see numerous heads bobbing up and down in agreement. He waited several minutes to give them the chance to ask more questions or depart.

"Elder, whatever you decide is our best course," Scribe Naceri spoke up from the buzzing ranks, "I'm with you until the end."

He gave her a nod and his heartbeat finally began a slow descent. Maybe he'd tormented himself with needless worry.

"For those of you who wish to part our company, you may retrieve your personal belongings and turn in your gear, then you're free to go. I wish you all the best. And for rest of you... I am honored by your support and trust, and I will do everything I can to see us succeed. There will be countless changes and many hardships in the coming days, as we adjust and find our way, but I have faith in you all to see it through to better times. Until that day, we have work to do! I expect to see you all at your posts in the next fifteen minutes. I want you ready to get back to business and following orders as usual. Kells and I will be watching, as always," Arthur warned them. This shift in focus and task didn't warrant any funny business, and he'd be damned if he'd put up with any.

"Victoria Aut Mors!" Arthur shouted, and gave a sharp salute, his fist thumping his chest with fierce determination.

A flood of pride and relief engulfed him as nearly every one of his soldiers on the field snapped to attention and mimicked his cry. "Victoria Aut Mors!" And additional shouts of "For Elder Maxson!" repeatedly rang through the heated air.

Arthur watched the field slowly empty as everyone returned to their previous tasks. Their faith in him was staggering, and humbling, and he prayed he would live up to the promises he'd made. It wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to see it through.

Victory or Death, indeed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fuzzy on Fallout/Brotherhood lore, so I may have 'made up' a few things. Oh well.  
> Next chapter (already in progress)... is mostly fluff w/a touch of setup/plot.


	31. Facets

 

Olivia was sitting alone at the meeting table at Fort Strong, her elbows resting on the polished surface and her chin resting on her interlaced fingers. Her eyes burned and she knew they were red, but there were no more tears left to shed. She'd brought Felix back to the Castle hoping to find the man she loved - with a gloriously colossal smile lighting his face - waiting for her. Instead, she'd returned to find him gone; without a note, without saying goodbye, without a fight.

After that night at the airport all those months ago, and after everything that had happened between then and now, she'd thought Danse had learned not to jump to conclusions; that he would stop and search for answers for the things he didn't understand.

Apparently, he had not. Nor did it seem that he cared enough to look past her previous mistakes and take things for what they were.

Lily had told her that Danse believed he could not be a father of her baby. He was convinced that Olivia had been with another man, either during or before she and Danse had gotten together. It made Olivia angry that he would just throw in the towel on their relationship at the mere idea of such a concept.

It didn't take a much musing to guess who he thought she'd slept with. Honestly, she'd never been intimate with Worly, in spite of her attraction to the handsome man. How could she, when all her thoughts and feelings had been wrapped up in Danse?

Deacon was the only other man she'd been with in the past two years, and the last time they'd had sex was just before the attack on the Institute. And so what if Deacon had been the father? Did that instantly mean Danse couldn't be with her? She didn't understand why he would feel that way. Could he not love her regardless of her past partners?

The fact was - and Olivia would be the first to admit that she didn't fully understand how it was possible, though it certainly wasn't unbelievable - Danse was her baby's father. She knew it because it was a little difficult not to notice the timing of events; August twelfth was her last cycle. August twenty-seventh was the day she and Danse had thrown caution to the wind after the super mutant attack at the Castle - and spent a glorious half hour locked in the armory enjoying each others bodies. September tenth had come and gone, and by the morning of September nineteenth, Olivia was peeing into a cup with a little blob of white toothpaste at the bottom and watching it turn blue and foamy.

So what was she supposed to do now? Go throw herself at Danse's feet and beg him to come back to her?

That was not Olivia's style. She loved Danse, and there wasn't a single doubt in her mind that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but if he wasn't willing to trust her and believe miracles could happen, then she sure as hell wasn't going to waste her breath trying to convince him to.

Scuffling outside the door pulled her attention and she looked up as Arthur Maxson walked into the room, trailed by Lily and Felix, a beautiful golden-haired woman, and Worly.

"Ms. Grimaldi," Maxson greeted her with a half-friendly tone and Olivia's brow quirked, but she nodded in acknowledgement.

That was new.

"Did the address go as hoped?" she asked.

"Better," Lily smiled.

"So what's next? Are we hitting those scum hard before they gather strength, or what?"

It was the first day of October, and though snow was a rare occurrence in the winter months now, the nights were god-awful cold when forced to camp outside without shelter, and she didn't relish the thought of shivering her ass off now that she had a regular place to sleep. Better to attack while the weather was still decent and nights around a campfire were still tolerable.

Maxson forewent his usual seat at the far end of the table and pulled out a chair across from her for Lily, then moved to take the seat next to her, while Worly saw to the other woman. Felix rushed around and plopped into the chair next to Olivia and gave her a little grin when she reached out and mussed his hair.

"We'll be discussing that soon," Maxson answered, "but there's something else we'd like to talk to you about."

"Well," Lily added, "you and Worly. Which is why I asked you both to be here."

Maxson leaned back in his chair and stretched his wide shoulders, letting out a deep breath.

"Lily has filled me in on the latest settlement attacks, and the personal strikes at your people. I've had three patrols of my own get ambushed - one of them being completely wiped out. Our enemies are becoming bold and I don't like having those closest to us within their grasp. This latest move at Lily," he made a barely noticeable gesture towards Felix, "was too much to ignore."

Lily agreed. "That's why Arthur and I have decided that until this menace is removed... Olivia, we want you and Worly to take Felix and Ms. Woodruff, and a few of our older folks and kids, to Far Harbor. I've already secured passage with Mr. Nakano, and you can stay at one of the settlements there where it's safe."

Olivia glanced at Worly, who was obviously hearing of this for the first time, because they exchanged looks of surprise.

"For how long?" Worly asked. "I'm supposed to be helping with recruits at Sunshine. Plus, I'd like to be on the front lines when those parasites come crawling into the Commonwealth."

"I understand, but this is important, Worly," Lily pleaded. "If I'm worried about Felix's safety I can't do my job. And Arthur promised Ms. Woodruff a new life somewhere the Elder Council won't think to look for her. Far Harbor is her best bet. I've got friends there that can help her get on her feet. I would take them there, myself, but I've got an militia to guide. Please, you guys," Lily begged them, "I need people I can trust to watch over them since I can't."

Lily had always known exactly what buttons to push to get Olivia to do practically whatever she wanted, and it seemed she'd only gotten better at it.

"Besides," Lily looked at Olivia, "you can use the opportunity to talk to DiMA about your situation, and see if he knows anything."

Everyone looked at her, and Olivia's faced flamed. A short glance around the table told her that everyone was clueless about Lily's remark expect Maxson, who actually gave her the faintest of smiles.

Embarrassment aside, Lily was right about...well, all of it, actually. Felix would be safer as far from the Talons and Mag Black's Operators as they could get him, and it would be a chance to learn more about synths. Deacon hadn't ever been very willing to share what he knew with her, as if giving away information would ruin his mysterious persona. All of what she knew had come from first hand experience, or in speaking to Amari.

"All right. I'll take them," she agreed.

"Lieutenant Worly?" Maxson prompted. "Danse told me you used to be a Brotherhood soldier. I'd be grateful to a fellow brother in arms, if you would watch over Ms. Woodruff."

Worly studied Maxson for a minute, then accepted. "Very well."

"Excellent," Maxson grinned. "I believe we deserve a little break. How about dinner here?"

Lily was beaming as she watched him, and Olivia couldn't help but feel a little jealous that her friend and Arthur might have a chance to be together after all, while she and Danse kept smacking into walls.

"Can I have a tour?" Felix asked excitedly.

Maxson was actually grinning when he pushed to his feet and replied, "Absolutely. Let's go find a scribe and order dinner, and then we'll go for a quick walk around before your mother makes us go wash up."

Felix scooted from his seat and made a beeline for Arthur's side, and they walked out of the room already discussing the inner workings of Fort Strong. Olivia was shocked by the Brotherhood leader's abrupt change in character, and she wasn't sure what to think. Sure, Lily had an affect on people that could make them cower to her will, but this was beyond impressive.

"What's gotten into him?" she asked Lily.

Lily was smiling, but the feminine voice that answered belonged to another.

"If I'm not mistaken," the woman next to Worly said, "that would be love."

Yeah, Olivia knew what that was like. Too bad for her that the man she loved apparently did not.

"I think I'm going to get some fresh air," she told them and rose from her seat, and quietly left the room.

The scribes that passed her in the hallway didn't even blink an eye at her presence, and she exited the front doors and walked around the building to stare out over the ocean. The days were getting shorter, and the evening light dipped low, casting a deep orange glow across the water. She'd always liked the ocean. Something about the sound of lapping waves on the shore and the crisp breeze across her skin let her momentarily fade into her own little world, where bad things didn't happen and no one broke her heart. She was just light, and free; a speck of dust in an infinite universe where nothing else mattered.

"Care for some company?"

Olivia turned to find Arthur Maxson walking towards her, of all people.

"I thought you were giving Felix a tour."

"He found a box of puppies one of the scribes had brought in, and suddenly I was chopped liver."

The corner of her mouth turned up. "Yeah, that happens."

The elder's presence made Olivia nervous, as he'd never tried to speak with her one on one before, but she wanted to see what he would try to say, what his intentions were, so she let him approach.

"Congratulations on your baby news," he began. "I admit, I was shocked to hear it, considering what we believed to be true about Danse's kind."

His words made her bristle a little, but she tried not to let it linger.

"It caught me off guard, but I'm happy about it."

"I've known Danse a long time," Arthur said, his hands clasped behind him as he looked out over the water in a similar manner. "He and I discussed the idea of having families while living the life of a soldier, many times over the years. He always said that he was fine without a wife and children, but I could tell deep down that he wanted them."

Olivia didn't know what to say, so she just nodded and pressed her lips together. If Danse had felt like that before now, then his mind had certainly been changed.

"I think this synth business has us all confused," Arthur suggested. "Our scribes have studied some, and Cade has run some tests, but... Cade never had a reason to test Danse's personal biology - other than blood work during routine physicals. It seems if he had, nothing would have triggered alarms. Yet another piece of proof that the Brotherhood's view of synths was taken at face value."

She turned her head slightly to look at him.

"Holy hell, Maxson. Are you admitting that you were wrong, and that synths are human?"

His pale blue orbs turned to her, and though his expression was indeterminate, his eyes held deep sadness.

"I am. I was. Well... about Gen threes, anyway." He faced the water again. "I put my best friend in danger because I was too afraid to stand up for him. I made Lily take my place to do what I was too weak to try, and for that I will never forgive myself."

Wait. Was he confessing to putting Lily up to saving Danse?

"You knew she'd try to save him."

He nodded. "I was aware of her ideology. I knew that if she failed, I could blame it on the Brotherhood's rules, or on her, or any number of other factors. I wouldn't have to feel guilty that he was gone, and no one would question my involvement. But I didn't consider that she might actually have been correct about synths all along. I don't know whether it was sheer luck, or whether it was fate that Lily was released from that vault in time to save Danse, but in either case, I'll be forever in her debt."

"She saved more than just Danse," Olivia reminded him.

"Yes," he concurred. "She's an extraordinary woman."

Olivia could hear the respect he had for Lily in the tone of his voice and see the spark of life just thinking of her ignited within him.

"Treat her right, Arthur, or I'll come back from Far Harbor for your head."

He chuckled. "I don't doubt that a bit, but I assure you, my best will be all I ever give to her. I swear it."

"I'm glad to hear it," she said honestly. Lily needed some happiness, after everything she'd been through. Someone in this godforsaken hell should be happy, and if anyone deserved it, it was Lily.

"Danse will come around," Arthur added and placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's a stubborn man, but once he wraps his head around this, you won't be able to change his mind."

Dare she hope Maxson was right?  
 


	32. From Hell to Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A "new" character enters (vanilla, not OC). I have given him a little background though. He's going to come into play in a future chapter. :)
> 
> And you get two chapters today! Woohoo!

 

The first thing he noticed as he walked up through the parking lot next to the little diner, was the size of the Castle. He wasn't sure whether he'd expected it to be larger or smaller than it was, but he definitely hadn't expected to see it in such good condition. More like the rest of the buildings post nuke. It was nearly impossible to find structures that hadn't been damaged by the war, or that had just crumbled from two hundred years of neglect, so this place was damn near a miracle.

He'd been in the Commonwealth for too long - a little less than half his life - but he'd never had reason to make it to the coast until now. He'd been too busy being sent on jobs because the old boss had been a lazy bastard who just wanted to sit around all day and drink away all the caps everyone else busted their asses to earn. With that shiftless wretch gone, a new leader had been sent in, and he wasn't running things much better than the last guy.

Galigo Cullen. What a name. The man was about as useful as tits on a teddy bear. He was supposed to come in and clean shit up, get the Gunners motivated and increasing business, but all he'd done for the past year was sit around with his thumbs up his ass and let some panty-waste psycho from the Capital Wasteland paint a bigger target on their backs and get them involved in crap they had no reason to collaborate.

It was one thing to take on the Brotherhood of Steel because they got too close to a Gunner base, or attack a band of Minutemen because they were trying to clear the Gunners away from a settlement that was close by, but to purposefully ambush patrols that were nowhere near a post... That was just asking for trouble, and he wanted no part of it.

The truth was, he didn't give a molerat's ass about the Gunners. He'd joined them because he'd been a skinny kid in his mid twenties, starving for a meal, with no roof over his head, no skills to utilize and no place to go. He'd earned his keep, for the last ten damn years, and what did he have to show for it?

_Not goddamn much, that's what._

And when Cullen had let that crazy bastard, Torch, sucker them into a plan with the Nuka World Raiders to try to take over the Commonwealth from the settlers... Well, the plan sounded like it would be simple enough, until the Minutemen started showing up and making it more difficult. Then the Brotherhood of Steel got involved, sending troops out to provide supporting protection to the farms that they traded with. That little detail had sent Cullen on the warpath, but he still hadn't pulled the Gunners from the deal. Not until after Torch - the fucking psychopath didn't know how to keep his shit together - ambushed that first patrol and slaughtered them all and left them for the next patrol to find.

_Idiot._

Since that day, all future Brotherhood patrols had been power armored knights only, which made it all the more difficult and dangerous to fight if and when they were forced into a battle.

Cullen kicked Torch to the curb after that, but it was too late. That Mags Black lady had sent her brother and some shit-head named Savoy ahead of her to start the ball rolling, and he told the Gunners to either get on board or get flattened under their boot when she arrived. He almost couldn't believe it when Commander Cullen folded like a wet copy of Publick Occurrences.

The last straw came when Savoy butchered a caravan heading west out of the Commonwealth, for no other reason than because he wanted to.

Taking out a site full of ferals, or even offing some bastard because he was stiffing people in trades or selling chems for a major profit and not splitting the caps with the Gunners, those were tolerable. But murdering half a dozen people just to see the carnage? That was fucked up, and he'd had enough.

But what then? He didn't really have a desire to sell himself as a mercenary. He could. He had the skills now to do it, but...what was the point? The Minutemen were taking back the Commonwealth. Even without the Brotherhood of Steel aiding them, they'd clear it of the majority of raiders and Gunners within a few years, and he had no delusions that he'd be left standing if he were on the Gunners side of the firing line. They all thought they were hot shit; indestructible even; Believed they were a match for the Brotherhood.

 _Pfft_.

He'd heard the stories of that Brotherhood of Steel paladin that was training all the Minutemen at Sunshine - about his prowess on the battlefield. For fucks sake, what did Cullen think was going to happen? With not only half the Brotherhood army coming after them, but fucking Brotherhood trained Minutemen too? They might as well kiss their asses goodbye, because the Gunners weren't going to be around much longer, and he figured he'd get out while the getting was good. To where?

_To the safer side of the war, that's where._

 So he'd taken his few belongings and hiked over to the Castle to join up. Better to risk his ass saving settlers from crazy raiders and dumbass Gunners and actually have a chance at living through this tornado waiting to happen, than to maim, torture and murder and then have to answer to a bunch of bloodthirsty mongrels.

Two guards manning the north entrance stopped him just before he reached the gate, their weapons - recently refurbished assault rifles, he respectfully noticed - aimed at his chest.

"What's your business here?" the closest guard asked.

"I heard a rumor that the General is looking for permanent guns. If that's true, I'd like to join," he answered honestly.

Of course they didn't believe him and looked him over with suspicious eyes. He didn't blame them. He'd have done the same thing, were he in their shoes - and if he was lucky, he soon would be.

"Where are you from?" the other guard asked.

"Originally? Few days southwest of here. Lately?" he paused and shrugged. "Trying to find a place I don't mind staying the remainder of my time with the living."

He'd ditched all his old Gunner gear, so the only thing the guards saw when they looked at him would be a guy with a decent weapon, in a worn flannel shirt, ratty jeans and a couple mismatched pieces of leather armor. Nothing far unlike what eighty percent of the population had. And he'd never succumbed to the habit the Gunners had taken up, of putting his blood type on his forehead; he was tattoo-free.

"We'll need to search you and have a look through your pack. I'll take your gun for now, and any other weapons you've got on you. Otherwise, you can turn around and head back the way you came."

"Fair enough," he nodded and set his pack at the man's feet and handed the other his gun. "I don't have anything else but a knife down in my bag."

He waited patiently for them to finish their search and then the first one led him through the gates, carrying his stuff for him.

They found the militia leader in her conference room, studying something on her PipBoy and comparing it to an old map she had spread across the table in front of her. She looked up when they entered the room and the guard informed her of the new arrival.

"Says he wants to join up," the man said, clearly still suspicious.

"All right, I'll speak with him," she said, letting her gaze trail over him, up and down. The guard set his things against a wall behind her and left. She pointed to a chair. "Have a seat and tell me about yourself."

He pulled out the closest one and sat. "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't you start with telling me your name, and why you're leaving the Gunners," she said nonchalantly.

Of course that caught him by surprise and he stared at her in shock. "How'd you know?"

"Your eyes," she replied. "They have the same look a friend of mine has; disenchanted; tired; a little wiser with experience."

He nodded, "Ain't that the truth." He sighed. "Names Sabot. Jace Sabot."

"So why offer to join the Minutemen, Jace? I would imagine you've had your fill of bloodshed."

"The wasteland is always going to be filled with bloodshed," he remarked. "Besides, I was never a steadfast member of the Gunners, anyway. I joined to survive, and I did. Now I don't need them anymore. Plus, they're putting their hands into a snake pit of vipers and I want no part of that."

The General's blue eyes questioned him. "Viper pit?"

He confirmed with a nod. "Nuka World raider gang called the Operators wants the Commonwealth and they've managed to get the Gunners to back them up. I've heard that some of the raiders here have agreed to join in, but most of the bands don't want to be under the control of a big boss. They like their little gangs and the freedom to do what they want, so they've declined. Personally, I would too. This Mags Black lady has a temporary alliance with one of the other groups from her side of the hills and that lot is about the most vicious and homicidal bunch I've ever seen. I think they're call--"

"The Disciples," she said for him.

"Uh..yeah. You know them?"

"I know of them, from a little bird that flew over here to shit on our parade," she answered, her voice quivering slightly as she became upset. "And you're willing to join us and fight them? How can we trust you not to turn tail and run? You did just abandon the Gunners, after all. How do I know you won't do the same to us?"

"Making caps is good. Making caps doing work that I'd do for free is better. Murdering a settlement of innocent people because someone is greedy, not my cup of tea. Murdering an entire region of innocents so some lunatic can claim ownership? Well, that sets my teeth on edge and makes me bristle. I don't like greedy people, and I sure as hell don't like sitting on my ass knowing I could've tried to stop it. So, will I fight? Yes. Will I risk death? Sure, if I have to. Why? Because I'm not getting any younger and I haven't done shit worth leaving behind when I go."

"Is this penitence, then?"

"If that's the way you want to look at it. Mostly, it's self-preservation. I see how the deck is stacked and I know where the better odds lay. I'm placing my bet on this side."

Those sapphire eyes studied him for a what seemed like an eternity, and he wasn't sure she believed him. She had no reason to, considering who he'd been working for.

"Were you part of the group that killed the settlers at Egret, Somerville or Oberland?"

"No. That wasn't the Gunners, as far as I know."

"Did you take part in the attack of any Brotherhood patrols near Minutemen settlements?"

Jace shook his head. "Again, not the Gunners."

"Good to know." Her jaw waggled side to side as she contemplated something else. "Do you know MacCready?"

Jace blinked. "R.J. MacCready?" She confirmed. "Yeah, but not well. Met him a couple years back. Quiet kid, but seemed like a good guy. Why?"

"He's the frien--"

"Friend you mentioned earlier. The one with the eyes like mine."

"Correct. If he says you're worth my time, then you're in. If not..."

Sabot stood to his feet. "Yeah, I get it. Can I come back in a few days to check?"

She picked up his gear and handed it to him, gun and all. "Grab an empty bunk for the night. He'll be here in the morning and we'll talk again."

He didn't bother hiding his shock. "Wow, that's...very generous of you. Kind of risky, though, if I'm not on the up and up."

"My men will be watching. And if you try anything, you likely won't get more than one of us. Two, if you're super lucky."

She whistled sharply and he heard the sounds of clicking approach from the hallway, and he turned to find himself looking into a pair of alert brown eyes.

"Watch him, Dogmeat." The dog barked once, sharply and loud, and Jace turned back to her. "Have a good night," she told him in a chipper tone and a bright smile, and all he could do was blink stupidly and mutter thanks as he walked down the hallway looking for an empty bed, the big dog at his heels.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in the next chapter. It's not great, but you've been warned. ;D


	33. The Hollow Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! Smut ahead!!! It's brief, and not very detailed, but I tried.

 

Despite the fact that there was a building full of Minutemen a stone's throw away, Arthur didn't like the idea of Lily staying in her cabin on the pond all alone, and he'd insisted that she join him at Fort Strong. The upstairs rooms had been refurbished and the site was far more secure than the Castle. At first she'd hesitated to accept, unsure how it would look to her people, and to the soldiers she was trying to impress. She didn't want them to get the wrong idea - that she didn't trust them to protect her, or that she was sleeping her way to power and position. But she realized that she already had the position, and if where she chose to sleep made her unfit to lead them, they were welcome to choose another figurehead if they thought they could find one who would take on all the responsibilities that she had.

For the past week she'd been making the trip back and forth between Fort Strong and the Castle, and she was sure Arthur was growing weary of providing her with a Vertibird morning and night. He had far more important things on his mind, and far better uses for his aircraft than playing taxi for her, and she decided she was going to discontinue the arrangement.

It was late when she finally made it back to his headquarters, intent on making it her last night there - she would tell Arthur about it in the morning.

The Guards out front nodded in greeting as she passed, and she quietly shut the door and went up the stairs. As she turned towards her room the door to Arthur's quarters opened and her head turned toward the sound.

"Lily?" Arthur stepped out into the faintly-lit balcony.

"Yes," she answered, stopping abruptly. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"Not at all. I was actually hoping to see you."

She moved nearer to him, studying his silhouetted form in the doorway. She would rather see his face, and those carefully guarded blue eyes of his.

"Oh? Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, per se, just... I'd like to get some things cleared up between us and was wondering, if you're not too tired, we might talk for a bit."

"I can do that. Where?"

"I have a lounger in my room, if that's not too overly familiar," he said as he turned to gesture inside the space.

Lily laughed and walked past him. "Worried the troops will think you're loose, Arthur?"

"What the troops think about my...personal life...doesn't bother me. The only opinion that matters to me is yours. I wouldn't want you to get the impression I'm trying to seduce you."

She turned towards him as he stepped in after her, and moved so close to him that she could smell the faint odor of an old cigar and the minty scent of toothpaste in his beard, and she looked up into his eyes with a brazen expression.

"And what if I try to seduce you, instead?"

His eyes widened at the suggestion, but only for the merest second. She almost wondered if she'd actually seen it or whether she was just imaging her bold behavior had shocked him.

"You may want to rethink that, unless you don't mind finding yourself naked in my bed."

The seriousness in his voice and the spark that was now burning in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, and something long neglected awoke within her.

"I don't believe rethinking that is something I'd like to do right now," she said softly, but with conviction.

Lily heard him swallow hard, his eyes searching hers for some kind of sign that she was only teasing him. She lifted her arm and unsnapped her PipBoy from her wrist, setting it off to the side on the top of a dresser nearby, then reached out and pushed his coat off his broad shoulders. It was heavier than she thought it would be, and she had to grip it tightly as she laid it over the back of a tall arm chair. Returning to him, she lifted her hands to his deep chest and pressed her palms against the fabric there, feeling the tight muscles underneath.

"Lily," Arthur sighed, his eyes hooded in increasing arousal, "if you have no intention of following through with what your actions are suggesting, I'm begging you to stop now."

She ran her hands over his shoulders and around his neck, and locked them there, pulling herself into him.

"I would never play games with you, Arthur. I mean to make love to you tonight....if you'll have me."

He needed no further convincing. Arthur locked his door and guided her across the room, turning her so that she stood with the back of her knees to the edge of his bed. His arms encircled her waist, his hungry mouth pouncing on hers like a starving lion. His tongue swept into her mouth, demanding and confident, and Lily moaned at the wonderful sensations of heat, and wet and need.

The course hairs of his beard tickled her face as they kissed, bodies molding into one another. Arthur took his time stripping her of clothes, his strong hands gentle but firm on her skin, his eyes grazing over her body as he explored every inch.

"You're even more beautiful than I'd imagined," he whispered into her ear before suckling at the lobe and leaving a moist trail down her neck as he nibbled his way to her shoulder.

"And you're taking far more time to get me onto that bed than I thought you would," she groaned.

His dragged his fingernails lightly across her chest to her other shoulder and down her arm, his hot breath playing across her skin. It had been so, so long since she'd felt the touch of another. Two hundred and eleven years, in fact. It was excruciatingly magnificent.

"Patience, my love. I will not rush what I've waited all this time to have."

The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes nearly brought her to tears. It had been so long since someone had made her feel so important; so wanted; so loved. Even before the bombs had dropped, Lily had yearned for someone to make her feel this way. Not that Nate hadn't loved her. He had, no question. But he had never been the type to speak so sweetly, or spend time demonstrating his love. His idea of romance and foreplay had been taking her to a movie and telling her to hop in the back seat - and that was _before_ they'd been married. After that, it had dwindled to nothing.

In many ways Arthur was a lot like Nate. Confident, intelligent, and meticulous, not to mention dutiful and dependable. But Arthur was also different. He was caring and charming, and tender, and it was these things that Lily had always wanted.

She sighed as he kissed her down onto the bed, their legs still hanging over the edge, the fabric of his uniform rough against her naked skin. It scratched across her hardened nipples, and she pushed against the arousing pressure in an attempt to get more.

Agonizingly slow, Arthur worked  his mouth to her breasts, lavishing them with attention. By the time he left them to move lower across her stomach, Lily was writhing under him in unfulfilled need.

"Please, Arthur," she begged. "I can't wait for you any longer. I need you now."

His hot breath fanned over her mons as he lowered himself between her thighs and gripped her hips, yanking her ass to the edge of the bed.

"Soon, darling. There's one more thing I want to do, and then you shall have me," he promised.

Lily watched him, her hands tucked into the long hairs of his head, her heartbeat racing as he kissed the tender flesh of her thighs. His lips were softer than she'd expected and she sighed as he caressed each one with his tongue and mouth. Her eyes closed, savoring the feeling of Arthur's touch, and she knew she would forever be lost to it, craving it again and again.

Suddenly, Arthur's hot tongue licked her folds from back to front, delving to flick her clit before sucking on it gently and Lily cried out, the electric sensations slamming through her like a bolt of lightning. He repeated it several more times before licking two digits and pressing them into her core as his tongue swirled around her sensitive bud. Lily bucked and thrust against him, moaning and whimpering as he worked her closer to climax, his fingers curling just so to rub her sweet spot.

Then he was gone, pulling away to shed his uniform, and she pushed up on her elbows to get a better view of his magnificent form, her eyes honing in on the apex of his legs and her mouth dropped open in shocked satisfaction. His cock stood at attention, thick and long, its pink head waiting to fill her.

When he moved closer Lily reached out to touch him, and he let her. She ran her palm over his defined abdominals and down over the sharp V of his hips, down a thick thigh and up to cup his balls. He hissed as they tightened in her hand and she tugged lightly to make him come closer.

With her other hand she took hold of his shaft, bringing it to her mouth and running her tongue down the length of him. He moaned and his fingers twisted into her hair, and she licked every inch before swiping her tongue across his slit to steal the drop of pre-cum that glistened there. He sucked in a sharp breath when she closed her mouth over the tip of his cock, and moaned when she slid him further into her mouth.

At first she sucked gently, while her hand kneaded his balls lightly and she was aware his breathing had quickened. She was just about to increase the suction when he pulled away with a muttered curse, and she looked up at him questioningly.

"Back on the bed," he pointed. "Now!"

Lily scrambled to obey, and he crawled over to her, settling himself between her legs, the tip of his cock jumping fiercely. His mouth found hers and he kissed her hard as his hips pushed forward, and he slid into her with one smooth motion and they both cried out.

He stilled his movements, resting his forehead on hers, his breath coming in little puffs, his heart beating so strong she could feel it pounding against her palm as she caressed him.

"I think maybe you've waited too long for this," she teased, and he grinned before shifting to reach for her leg, pulling it up higher over his back.

"Indeed. Will you be angry with me if I move things along?"

Lily laughed. "Not in the slightest."

"In that case," he altered his position again, sitting back and pulling both her legs over his shoulders before dropping his hand between them to rub her clit as he pistoned his hips.

His pupils dilated as he pushed himself closer to orgasm, his chest heaving, his hard body rocking her into the mattress. Lily felt the familiar tingle and bite of her arousal as it inched closer to release, and the sounds she made only seemed to drive him faster and harder to the end, his thumb working sporadically over her nub as he lost his rhythm and strained to keep them both on course.

But it was enough, between the pressure of his hand, and the sensation of his cock sliding over the little rough patch of nerves inside her, Lily was sent crashing over the edge with a scream, gripping his arms and crying out his name.

He was only a few seconds behind her, sweat beading his brow. He jerked away from her and spilled himself all over her stomach, pumping himself a few times as he drenched her with his seed. The warm, sticky mess felt heavenly and Lily just lay there watching him, enjoying the after effects of her orgasm as Arthur went to find something to clean her up.

When that was done, he pulled back the sheets and they climbed underneath. He pulled her into his arms and she snuggled into his chest.

"Next time, I won't have to rush," he said. "I hope."

"Maybe next time you could avoid making a mess on my stomach as well," she added.

He stiffened but said nothing.

"Arthur?" She looked up at him.

"As much as I would like nothing more than for you to have my child, I don't think now would be a good idea," he explained. "With the enemies we're facing, we don't need to give them anything else they could used against us. And I certainly don't need you captured because you're too pregnant to escape."

She pushed up away from him. "And when would be a good time then, hmm? You know as well as I do that the fighting will never end. There's always going to be someone who wants to take what doesn't belong to them, and we'll have to be the ones to stop them. With that being the case, I'll never be safe, and you'll never agree to have children with me."

She pulled out of his arms and scooted to the end of the bed, retreating to retrieve her clothes.

"You're leaving?" he asked in confusion.

She only bothered to yank on her oversized shirt so she could cross the hall in a semi-covered state. Gathering the rest of her things she went to the door.

"Maybe you should bring Aurelia back and reconsider marrying her. You obviously need a woman to bear your children who isn't going risk her life by being in the midst of battle." She turned the knob and stepped out. "Oh, and I wasn't going to bring it up until in the morning, but since you're awake, I wanted to tell you that I don't like wasting your resources shuffling me back and forth between the Castle, so I won't be staying here any longer. Goodnight, Arthur."

Lily crossed the hall in four quick strides, nearly falling into her room and bolting the door shut behind her. Before she'd even tossed her things into the seat of a chair and crawled into bed, tears were wetting her cheeks.

It wasn't fair. She'd already lost one man she loved, and now she couldn't be with the other. Maybe Arthur wanted to be with her, but she knew he couldn't. Not the way she wanted. She wanted a marriage, and a family. Shaun had been taken away from her, and the war had prevented her from having more.

Arthur needed heirs, and she wanted to fulfill that for him, but in his mindset, he wouldn't have them with someone who the enemy could harm, which ruled her out if she remained with the Minutemen. She had already spilled blood and broken bones to bring them back from the verge of extinction, she wasn't about to walk away and leave them to fend for themselves. They needed her, and she wanted to be their leader, to know that she was doing good in the world and making it a better place for future generations.

She loved Arthur, but she couldn't give up the Minutemen just because he was afraid for her, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be his mistress while he let another woman be the mother of his children. Fuck that.

If she'd known how he felt before tonight, she never would have given in to her desire to be with him. But now that she had, it would only make things more difficult. To work with him and see him as their forces cooperated against their enemy, but not be able to touch him, or taste him, or feel his arms around her...

Lily cried herself to sleep wondering why the universe had cursed her to wake up from one hell and into another. What had she done to deserve this?  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the judges scores are..... ? ;) jk
> 
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> Also...   
> If you're interested, hit me up on tumblr.  
> I could really use the feedback to know what I need to work on. I can't learn to write better if I don't know what I'm doing right/wrong. I'd appreciate constructive criticism. Thanks!
> 
> https://picsnfanficsoskyrimnfallout4.tumblr.com


	34. Across The River

 

Mags tossed her empty Nuka Cherry bottle into the campfire and reveled in the satisfying sound of shattering glass. Just over three damn months in the Commonwealth already, and nothing to show for it. She had arrived about a week and a half after Torch had gotten his head blown off by a sniper - which both irritated her and pleased her to hear about, because up to that point he hadn't been much of a help, and working with him had been proving to be more of a headache than her patience was willing to deal with.

Torch had been just as crazy and savage as Nisha, but with far less restraint. Nisha was a murderous nightmare on legs, but at least she had impulse control and wasn't completely insane - vindictive, aggressive and unscrupulous, sure, but never carelessly so, even if she was downright vicious. Mags almost wished she could've seen Torch's head when the bullet had struck the man's all-too-scrambled melon.

But that was months ago, and her luck hadn't gotten any better.

Her intention was to level the entire region to the ground on her march through to Diamond City, but new year had already rolled in, and she was still struggling to pass over the river, because every time her fighters made a play, those goddamn Minutemen and their Brotherhood of Steel pals pushed her back. They were losing fighters, wasting time and using up precious ammunition, and she was fed up with being thwarted by the Brotherhood of Steel and their stupid little Minutemen dogs.

She picked up another bottle and threw it at the burning logs and watched the licking flames scorch higher as the glass burst and brandy fueled the blaze.

Her plan was rather simple: Cut off the heads of her enemies and the bodies would crumple. But the ignorance of the idiot she'd agreed to work with had messed it up, when he had gone out on his own and kidnapped the general's kid. She understood his intention; get the lady out there to save her kid and then wack her off and be done with it. But his plan was sloppy, and badly handled, and instead of making it easier to pick them off, it had put them on high alert.

Unfortunately, Torch's death left her with a problem; no fodder to tie up their enemies attention and thin their forces.

Unless she could manipulate the gunner commander to take Torch's place - surely some caps would be incentive - because Nisha sure as hell wasn't dumb enough to do it; Nisha would need to keep as many Disciples as she could, if she meant to retain her hold on their territories in Nuka World, and risking their lives in pointless battles to create diversions was not a gamble she would be willing to take.

Mags was surprised that she and Nisha were cooperating so well together. Frankly, she knew it was only because she had told Nisha that she'd give up one of the sections of Nuka World to the Disciples, and the harpy believed it would give her an advantage over the Operators there. What she didn't know, was that Mags had plans for those heathen animals of Mason's Pack that would keep her Operators on the top of the food chain.

He called himself the Alpha, and thought he was untouchable.

Ha! The only reason Mason hadn't been put down like the filthy mutt he was, was simply because he'd served as a buffer between the Operators and the Disciples, and Mags had been content to keep it that way. He couldn't run her out, but he kept Nisha's focus off Mags enough that she didn't have to worry too much about the woman trying to make a play to take over the whole place. Not that Nisha could do it, but Mags would prefer not to lose people to keep the woman in check. Losing people meant losing revenue. Once Mags had taken care of those bestial curs, though, she would assume control of their territory and whatever she chose to hand off to Nisha wouldn't even matter.

And if Nisha complained after that? Then she'd put her down, as well. Mags was fed up with having to keep the lunatics placated.

True, the association between the Operators and the Disciples at this point was flimsy at best, but for now, the objectives of the two leaders ran in sync, and Mags had every intention of using that fact to manipulate Nisha into doing whatever she could - which presently consisted of eliminating the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel so Mags could take over the Commonwealth.

Mags glanced over to where her brother was sitting just outside the edge of the firelight, a beer in one hand and one of his girls straddling his lap. She didn't bother looking away when the girl reached into his pants and palmed his dick. Neither of them had ever been shy about sex - not who they did it with, where it happened, who saw it, or how it was done. It was the only tenet Mags happened to share in common with the animals of the Pack; the idea that sex was simply the nature of living creatures, and held no sentimental or emotional value. It was meant purely as a means to relieve tension, wield power, and keep the population at status quo - no more, no less.

The fact that she and William sometimes watched one another with whatever partner of the week they'd chosen, had stopped raising eyebrows long ago, but tonight she just didn't feel like being an audience. She had more pressing matters to focus on. Namely, how to get her hands on a practically invulnerable steel-throned king.

She stood up and stretched her back, leaving her chair at the fire for a softer place to rest her head while she contemplated things.

She really didn't like going to war with the Commonwealth protectors. It was bloody, and cost her a lot of time, caps, and fighters, but it had to be done. Takeovers were never clean, and as long as the payout was good, she could handle getting messy.

The Minutemen had proven to be a handful. Even with their subpar weapons and battle-green settlers manning the ranks, they had been giving as good as they got. It was their will to fight for their freedom, their families and their homes that gave them the edge. That, and the fact that Lizzie had failed at her job.

She'd had one single mission. To start a fire in the house of the Minutemen and let them finish burning it to the ground. How? By ruining the relationship of the Brotherhood turned Minuteman who was teaching them all to fight. With the two most dangerous fighters sidelined dealing with trust issues and personal woes, there would be no one to train the militia - which meant easier battles for the Operators, and no watch dog to protect the general - which meant getting to her would be that much easier.

As for the Brotherhood commander up in his floating pile of scrap...

That needed a little more thought. Getting past all those soldiers was going to be nearly impossible. Or at least, she'd thought it would be. She could hardly believe it when William came to her and told her the arrogant prick had moved his headquarters down to one of the old military posts. Yeah, it was on an inlet, and getting through the front gate would be hard, but there was no law that said she couldn't send William out there with a sniper rifle. He would find a way across the water, sneak up close to the main building, and when King Arthur poked his head out of his brick fortress, he'd be easy pickings.

Except that would leave William exposed and on his own when the rest of the Brotherhood realized what happened, and she didn't want her brother in that kind of predicament. Meaning, she had to find some other way to lure the king to his death, because she didn't trust anyone else to get the job done.

Impatience was eating at her though, because she had an old score to settle with Diamond City and its residents, and taking out the new Commonwealth guard dogs was the only way she was going to accomplish that. Now that the campaign to impart retribution had begun, she was dead set on seeing it through. Once she had all those little pests in the palm of her hand, she'd squash or enslave them as she saw fit.

Not to mention having an entire region of caravans, traders and farmers under her thumb would have her rolling in caps, and then no one would dare try to topple her empire.

So what could she do?

Well, that's where Lizzie came in, and hopefully this time, she wouldn't fail.  


 

* * *

 

 

  
Problem: The Brotherhood of Steel was at damn near every crossing between the Nuka World Raiders and Diamond City.

Solution: Pull their attention and forces away from the dam on the Charles River, leaving a nice opening for her people to cross right over into the city.

How to do that? Attack something that they couldn't possibly ignore.

What? Something that both the Minutemen and the Brotherhood considered valuable.

And that was? Sunshine Tidings.

The old co-op was their training grounds, and where the ex paladin seemed to reside. He was important to both the Minuteman General and to the leader of the Brotherhood. If he was captured, they would come after him.

See? Torch's original plan wasn't bad, he'd just executed it incorrectly and gotten himself killed. Mags didn't plan on making the same mistakes.

At any given time there were between 30 and 100 people there, and according to William - who'd done the recon - the only guards were the trainees. There were a few turrets outside the walls, but if she put William and his sniper rifle up on the overpass Commander Cullen had told her about, he could take those out and the place would be more vulnerable.

The icing on the Fancy Lad Snackcake? Lizzie had come through for them and had a nice surprise waiting to be let loose.

Mags could hardly wait.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Someone is feeling bigger than her britches.
> 
>  


	35. Hunted

 

Danse had just finished putting the trainees through a round of exercises, and everyone was tired from all the rigorous effort. His muscles were warm and loose, and a little sore, but it felt good to expend some of the energy off his frustrations. Frustrations of his own making, and Olivia's.

On one hand he knew that his decision to leave the Castle before she had returned was simply infantile and inconsiderate. He could have waited for her to return and told her that he didn't share her belief that he could be the father of her child. In fact, he was nearly one hundred percent certain that he couldn't be. But on the other hand, a tiny voice in the back of his mind kept nagging at him.

What if? Why was it not possible? How could he be so sure that it couldn't happen? Hadn't he already demonstrated merely by living the life he'd had this past decade that the assumptions on synths were far from accurate? Who's to say this idea wasn't false, as well?

Yet, did he have any right to father a child, or to pretend to be a father of a child? He was a synth. Not human. A child needed human parents, not some knock-off in a meat suit.

So he was relieved that Olivia hadn't come after him, for two reasons. One: He was angry with her for trying to pass off someone else's child as his own. It was manipulative, and he didn't appreciate being played or used. Of course, she might really and truly believe it was his and not consider it could be another man's, in which case he had no right to be angry over anything but her stupidity. Second: He didn't want to disappoint her any more than he already had, and worried she might come and try to make him change his mind. He should've known better. Olivia knew him, knew he couldn't be coerced into believing something he didn't feel was right.

But even still, the fact that she hadn't come after him stung a little. Maybe she didn't really love him, after all. That's what he'd told Lily. Maybe it was true.

The bright rays of the sun were hot on his skin, despite the chill in the morning air. Another hour and the temperature would jump twenty degrees though, and he'd be sweating without needing to exercise. Spring - well, the official date of it, anyway - was right around the corner, and the only difference between that weather and the weather of Winter was the overnight and early morning temperatures. And more rain. Summers brought more Rad Storms, and Autumn was dry. Very dry. And hot. He actually preferred that. Rad Storms were dangerous, and he had never liked getting drenched, especially back when he'd had power armor. And Winter? No matter how many blankets he'd scrounged up, he'd never been able to stay warm enough at night to get comfortable. Not that it mattered - sleeping had never come easily anyway.

As he walked across the training yard toward the mess hall, he could smell the aroma of cooking eggs and toast, with some kind of meat, and his stomach growled. He could eat two helpings, he was so hungry. And he'd better fill up, because the schedule for the rest of the day wouldn't allow him to do more than grab a DandyBoy Apple and some water until late in the evening.

He was about three feet from the doorway when the first explosion rocked the front gate on its hinges, and he whirled to see dark smoke billowing up from where the east turret was located.

He was already running back to the warehouse where he'd hung Civil Liberty on the wall while he led the men in their morning physical training, when the guards started shouting frantically. He couldn't understand what they were saying until he was nearly to the gate, though, and even then he wondered if maybe the unexpected explosion had frightened them so much that they weren't thinking clearly.

"Monster! Monster!" one yelled, pointing out over the wall to a location Danse couldn't see.

Another militia trainee screamed something about reinforcing the gate, but her words were cut off by the sound of the siren being switched on.

Suddenly the creature's head appeared above the gate doors and Danse slid to halt, lifting a plume of dust into the air around him as his eyes bulged at the sight of the beast, and his laser rifle lifted to aim at its face.

 _Shit_!

He'd never seen anything like it - not exactly. It was massive.

Similar to a Deathclaw in size and shape, but its face was longer and it had no horns. This one was a deep reddish-orange, with beady yellow eyes and small teeth. It didn't look nearly as terrifying as a Deathclaw, but its thick paws swiped at the gate and he heard wood splintering even over the wails of the siren. Obviously it would still be a chore to fight it.

Danse let off a few rounds to the beasts head, trying to keep it distracted while people ran for cover or found better fighting positions. The thing stomped, causing the ground around it to shake with vibrations. Shots were bouncing off the hard plates that covered its back and most of the bullets were doing no real damage.

Another explosion rocked Sunshine as a missile was sent crashing into one of the buildings on the south side of the complex, and people yelled out in fear and pain, and he heard a loud roar and more of the wall came down.

_Another one?_

Everyone was gathered near the front gates now, firing as fast as they could, but he could see they were soon going to be overrun. They didn't have anything strong enough to fight theses things. He hadn't expected to ever need any weapons like that. Deathclaws rarely attacked adequately protected communities, and this outpost had a higher, stronger wall than most. Why these things had decided to strike at them, he had no idea.

"Everybody back!" he screamed. "Retreat! Retreat!" and he waved his arms to get people's attention and motioned toward the back gate.

People were doing as ordered, and started to make a run for it. He let off another few shots, but it was more to keep the teratoid stunned than it was to do harm, because his laser shots weren't even penetrating the thing's skin. It severed one of the gates from its hinges and sent it flying into the center of the compound, and Danse had almost no time to dive out of harms way. The gate hit the dirt just behind him and kept coming, crashing into his back and shoving him over onto his stomach, burying his face into the dirt.

He was able to lift up enough to see the monster lumber inside, and to his shock, a horde of raiders poured in around its feet.

How it wasn't tearing them to shreds he couldn't begin to guess, but it didn't seem interested in them at all. Then he saw another group, armed similarly to the first wave of attackers, but dressed differently - an assortment of strange plaid suits and polished armors. A blonde woman looked around and spotted him, and she closed in, four men trailing her.

Danse tried to move, but his leg was trapped under the heavy metal frame of the gate and when he tried to pull it away, pain shot through it as if he'd been scalded with a red-hot poker and he growled out a menacing curse. He glanced around for his weapon, and stretched his arm out to reach it, but the woman got to it first and snatched it out of grasp.

"Don't bother fighting," the woman spoke in an eloquent tone. "There's no one to help you now, and you're surrounded."

She tossed Civil Liberty back behind her, right into the path of the monstrosity, and he watched in horror and anger as the titan's fat, clubby foot came down onto the weapon, shattering the casing and sending pieces everywhere.

_NO!_

It was the one thing he had left from when he'd thought he was human. And the only thing he had to remind him of his time with Olivia.

The blond and one of the men pointed their guns at him while the other three lifted the gate off his leg. He shifted to get up, determined to keep fighting, but his leg screamed in agony and he was forced to stay down with a grimace. A quick glance told him his lower leg was broken, bone sticking through the skin a good two inches.

The woman motioned for the men to lift him up, and Danse tried to shove them away.

"Get off me!" he yelled, and threw a fist. It caught one of them in eye, but another rammed the butt of his gun into the side of Danse's head and his world went black.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm me thinks Lizzie has played with her chemistry station and dosed a poor Gatorclaw with some crazy concoction and turned it into a Gatorclaw on steroids.....on a leash. How'd she do that? ( 'o' )


	36. Mountains of Madness

 

  
     
Arthur was at his desk, partially slumped in the high-backed rolling chair when Scribe Dyer peeked his head around the frame and knocked on his open door. He'd been dealing with recon patterns and shift scheduling all morning, on top of reading the latest reports of skirmishes between Brotherhood troops and those damn Nuka Raiders. Five months now of this headache, and he was getting to the point where all he wanted to do was pull his entire army into the Commonwealth and end this crap once and for all. But that would wreak havoc on the land and the people, and potentially open the door for other problems as well. Not to mention the fit Lily would throw if his troops took over the fight so dramatically.

"Pardon the interruption, Sir, but there's a man named MacCready here to see you."

MacCready? What could he possibly want to speak to him about?

Arthur straighten in his seat. "Send him in, William," he told the young lad (who had just celebrated his fifteenth birthday).

"Yes, Sir," Dyer replied and retreated.

There was a brief amount of silence and then he caught sight of the man stepping through from the hallway and watched him approach. When the merc stepped inside his door, Arthur eyed him suspiciously.

"What can I do for you, MacCready?"

The merc didn't bother waiting to be asked to sit, he simply stepped over to the chair across from Arthur and dropped into it, his rifle across his lap.

"Not for me, Maxson. For Lily."

Hearing her name brought feelings of both happiness and heartache. "Exactly what is it that you think I can do for her?"

MacCready pulled the green cap from his head and ran a hand back and forth through his light brown hair.

"Well, I'm not sure. To tell the truth, I hadn't really gotten that far in my plan. I just know Lily needs your help and I came to get you."

If he hadn't been curious about why the man was here before this, he certainly was now.

"What's going on? Is she all right?"

MacCready nodded. "She's fine, for now. But.... Well, I should probably start from the beginning so you'll understand."

Arthur could be a patient man when it mattered. He could suffer in silence for years under the grasp of old men he didn't even remember, and he could wait months to bed the woman who had stolen his heart, but what he could not do, was wait to hear why she needed him, just so some skinny mercenary could play storyteller.

"Make it quick," he snapped, which earned him a curled lipped.

"Early yesterday morning Sunshine Tidings was attacked. Not just attacked... It was destroyed."

Arthur's brows rose. Was that even possible? He'd seen the high walls in person, and the guard posts that Danse had supervised construction of were impeccable. The place was sturdy and secure. Even a supermutant would have a tough time getting in. "How?"

"By a... I don't even know what. Deformed Deathclaw, or something? The descriptions we got were way weird. Anyway... Lily gets a radio call from the camp from some woman who claims she's Mags Black. Aaaand, she claims she has Danse. Hostage. At the Gunner Plaza."

"Wait, I'm confused. How did she attack Camp Sunshine, capture Danse, take him to the Gunner Plaza, and call Lily all yesterday morning?"

"Gunners apparently managed to hijack a Vertibird some time ago. A settler said she saw it fly over the area just after the attack, and at first she thought it was one of yours, until she saw the graffiti on it."

"Just what we need," Arthur breathed. "So Lily is planning a rescue."

It wasn't a question, and the other man knew it, but nodded in confirmation anyway. "I tried to talk her out of it, but she said "we nev--"

"Never leave a man behind," Arthur cut in. "Yes, she has lectured me about it more than once."

"So you know there's no talking her out of this, then."

Arthur nodded. Damn stubborn woman. "I assume there were terms to this radio call from Black."

"Yup. Said Lily was to convince you to go with her, turn yourselves in, and she'd let Danse go."

Arthur snorted. "Is that all?" He stood up and grabbed two glasses off the round table in the corner of the room with one hand, dragging a bottle of whiskey to his desk with the other and poured some into each. "Apparently this chit doesn't think Danse is dangerous. Her mistake."

MacCready accepted the glass Arthur pushed toward him, downing the contents and set empty container back.

"I think she knows he's a synth, and she assumes that the Minutemen won't follow Danse if he tries to take over for Lily. That and I'm pretty sure she's counting on the Brotherhood killing him once you and Lily aren't around to protect him."

Arthur gulped his drink and poured them both another round. "Then she obviously isn't aware that I've made changes that my people approve of. He's far more respected than she's aware. If I were dead and Danse came here tomorrow, they wouldn't even argue if he said he was taking over for me." Second shot of whiskey downed. "Well, no one but Quinlan."

The snotty scholar was still as prickly as a mace and just about as a subtle on that topic.

"Point is," MacCready swirled his drink around in the glass, "she's not coming here to tell you about any of it. Said you're too important to the Commonwealth for both of you to get captured if she fails. She's planning on going out there alone, sneaking in and trying to rescue him all on her own. She won't even let me help." He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed it, hissing at the sting.

"How long until she's to make contact again?"

"Two days. Plenty of time to go in there and get Danse without her. But.... I can't do it alone. I can probably get passed the Gunners. I was one of 'em a few years back."

"I recall." The mercenary gave him a cold look. "I'm not judging," Arthur droned, "But how does that help us?"

"Becaaause, I shouldn't have a problem walking straight up the front entrance and saying I want back in."

"And they're just going to believe you?" Arthur was extremely skeptical about that.

"Sure. I tell 'em I need the caps, and I'm tired of scraping by. Then, I introduce them to a couple new pals of mine," MacCready gestured across the table at him, "that would be you, and then we walk right to Danse, free him when their backs are turned, and walk out like we're all just going to find a place to party."

Arthur scoffed at the last part, knowing the man was being facetious. "I hardly think that's a foolproof plan."

"You got a better one?" MacCready snarled.

He stared at the merc in fuming silence for what seemed like hours. "No, I do not."

The next hour found Arthur leaning over his bathroom sink and shaving the hair from his face. Without it he looked like a completely different man, much younger and more severe, now that his puckered scar wasn't half-hidden in fur. No one would recognize him like this. When he was done, MacCready handed him some clothes and let him dress. A pair of old jeans, a green shirt and worn boots.

His lip curled as he looked at himself in the mirror and felt repulsed. Perfect, he looked like a one of those cap-loving imbeciles already and he hadn't even been accepted into the group.

Another half hour later and the pair were being dropped off just out of sight of the Plaza by a Vertibird, and MacCready led them up the road.

"This better work," Arthur snarled.

"It will. Just let me do the talking."

They neared a charter school with a bus out front and MacCready slowed as they started passed it. The hair on the back of Arthur's neck pricked up and his finger pressed against the side of his borrowed weapon near the trigger. The mercenary stepped closer to the school and whistled low and soft, and the air near the door of the bus seemed to shift and ripple.

He snorted quietly, unimpressed, when he realized it was a stealth boy.

Then a man came into view, and moved toward them. He was skinny - not as much as MacCready, but still, quite thin - with road leathers, red hair that rivaled the color of a Brotherhood uniform - or a carrot, and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses on his face - because there wasn't a stitch of sun in the sky.  
  
Hey," the man said.

"Did you bring him?" MacCready asked.

"Yeah, but...," the guy tossed him thumb back behind him and another man stepped down from the bus to join them, "are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, traitors and all..."

The merc's eyes skimmed over the last man. "You up to proving yourself? Once they catch wind of what you're up to, you're gonna be on their shit list."

Arthur was confused by the implication of their conversation.

"Wait," he injected, "I thought it was just you and me going in there," he said to MacCready.

"Are you kidding? Do you know how many ass-- jerks are in there? A whoooole lot. We need backup."

"Then why didn't you just let me bring some of my men?"

The red-haired fellow laughed. "So what, you could all stick out like a sore thumb? Please, Maxy, don't be ridiculous!"

Arthur glared at him.

"Yeah, I gotta say," the last man chimed in, "Gunners act tough, but you Brotherhood guys walk like you got a stick up your keister. One in a room full of Raiders and Gunners might pass as mannerisms, but you stick in a handful and that's just asking to be noticed."

"Who are you," Arthur demanded of the strangers.

"Sabot," the man with the dark blond mustache answered.

"You can just call me Marcel," the other answered.

Arthur sighed. The skinny fellow was obviously lying. Who would be stupid enough to call him 'Maxy' and then give him their real name?

"Fine, whatever. Now, would you mind filling me in on what you're planning? You've obviously got one, and I'd at least like to know what I'm risking my neck to do, besides the obvious."

Whatever it was, it damn well better get Danse and him out of there alive, and quick, before Lily showed up and got caught in the middle of something he couldn't save her from.

 

 

* * *

 

  
The darkness gradually faded away from his mind, like morning fog being burned away by the rising sun. It was like coming out of a dream state after a night of drinking, half-aware, groggy and tired. He felt his body being lifted and dragged across a concrete floor, the tops of his bare toes scrapping over the rough floor. His wrists were bound together with rope, and he could feel the burn of the restraint as it rubbed against his skin.

Then he was being hoisted up to hang like a gutted radstag, lifted to near standing and he tried to pull his feet under him to take pressure off his arms and shoulders, and he sucked in a breath as pain seared through his broken leg. The action didn't help much, as he could barely reach the floor, just enough to touch it with the balls of his feet.

"Wakey, wakey, Pretty Boy," someone sneered.

Danse cracked open his heavy lids enough to see his captor's shadow as the man moved around behind him. His ringing ears picked up the sound of water dripping from somewhere in the distance, and something sticky coated his naked torso.

God, he was tired. Why was he so tired?

He remembered now. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up here, like this. They had hauled his unconscious body out to a Vertibird after someone had introduced his skull to the butt of their rifle. When he first became aware of the sounds of rotor blades he'd thought he was waking up from a bad dream and being rescued by a Brotherhood squad. That idea hadn't lasted long. He'd caught sight of the thick, rolling black smoke and the curling metal sides of the bunkhouse and he tried to lurch to his feet to fight again.

He'd damn near thrown one of his attackers off the side of the Bird, and himself, too. Someone grabbed him just as he slid, and yanked him backwards. After that, it all went blank. Next thing, he woke up in this room, and the rest he'd rather forget.

"Bout time you came to. I was beginning to think you didn't like playing my game," the gruff voice said from off to his side. "You're not getting tired of my game, are you?"

The icy edge of a slightly curved and very sharp knife pressed against his ribs, but he didn't answer.

"Mags said I couldn't kill you, but she never said I couldn't slice off little bits until there's nothing left of you for your friends to save," the man taunted.

Danse put most of his weight on his good leg and twisted his face toward his tormentor.

"Then shut up and just get on with it then, I'm tired of hearing you talk about it."

A deep laugh bellowed behind them, growing louder as another approached. "As much as I'd like to see if you can crack this tough bird," the second man chuckled, "that's enough tormenting our guest."

Danse watched this new fellow step around and eye him up and down. "Jesus, Savoy," he complained, "Look at all these cuts." He looked over at the other man. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Savoy grunted. "We all have our hobbies. At least I don't get my rocks off watching my sister get fucked."

"It's not about that, you ignorant fool. It's about watching out for her like I'm supposed to do."

"Oh, yeah," Savoy snorted, "totally normal for siblings to see each other getting their brains banged out. Is her cunt still pretty and tight, after all these years of being pounded by a new dick every night?"

The longer-haired fellow looked as if he wanted to rip out the other man's tongue, but he just stood there for a minute before turning back to Danse and saying, "You see the simpleminded vermin I have to put up with?"

Danse coughed and red-tinted spittle pitched from the corner of his mouth and flecked across the man's metal chest piece.

"Yeah, real shame," he muttered.

"Be nice," the man said. "I could walk away and let him finish the job he's already started on your carcass." Dark eyes drifted over Danse's frame again. "And trust me when I say, there's not much work left to do."

Danse's shoulders and arms were screeching in agony now, his hands and fingers turning numb from the rope cutting off his circulation. He wondered how long it would be until they got tired of toying with him and put him out of his misery, or until his body succumbed to the abuse. He prayed that whichever it was, it would just be soon.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just three more chapters until completion. 
> 
> I was considering continuing this series (after ch39), but I might just end it here and move on to something else.  
> I'm on the fence for now. Thoughts?


	37. Mirage

 

  
  
Danse was stretched on a comfortable cot when his senses returned to him. The air was clean, almost pristinely so, and familiar sounds of footsteps on metal and muffled voices caressed his ears. Before he even opened his eyes he knew where he was at. He recognized it from all the previous times he'd been in this very room, banged up and bleeding, and being patched up by the medical doctor.

He opened his eyes and saw the man sitting on a stool near his counter, writing something on his clipboard of papers. A moment later the man's steel-colored eyes found his and he slid from his seat.

"Welcome back, Major. Everyone has been worried about you."

Danse started to speak, but his voice wouldn't come out and his eyes bulged a little in fear. Had he lost the ability to speak?

Cade reached over and retrieved a cup of water, handing it to him. "That's just a temporary side effect from the surgery. When the medication is out of your system your voice will return."

He nodded and took a few drinks. The cool liquid felt glorious going down over his dry throat tissue.

"I wish I could say that you'll be up and moving in a few days, but sadly, that won't be the case," Cade reported. When Danse looked at him with his forehead wrinkled in a questioning frown, the doctor explained. "Your fibula sustained multiple fractures, the worst of which was open. Your time in captivity prevented immediate care, resulting in severe infection. We've removed the debris and reset the bone fragments. You'll have a metal pin in your lower leg for the remainder of your life, but it should heal well. Unfortunately, you also suffered some nerve damage. I'll need to give you time to recover from this first operation before I can go back in and try repairing that."

Danse just blinked. He couldn't do anything else, and even if he could, he wouldn't know what to say. Would he be able to walk again? Run? Would he be crippled and unable to fight with the Minutemen?

"Your prognosis looks hopeful," Cade seemed to read his thoughts, "if my diagnosis and observations are correct. Another surgery or two, with plenty of time to recover and heal, and you should be back at work without residual issues. That is, if you do as your told and follow my instructions to the letter," and he gave him a stern glower.

Danse had never been one to stay down for the count long, opting for early return to duty, despite doctors' orders. Cade had lectured him about it far more times than he could remember.

He nodded assent. What other choice did he have? Rush back out too soon and may ruin any chance at every being able to use his leg again. And without two functioning legs, what good would he be?

Danse tried to shift to stretch his aching back, and pain ripped through his torso and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Sorry about that, I forgot to warn you," Cade put down his clipboard and came to his side, lifting away the white sheet from his chest, and Danse looked down. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his middle, some showing blood seeped bandages. "Your midsection will be sore for a while. You suffered some deep lacerations to your abdominal area that required stitches. You also received some trauma that resulted in severe bruising to your lungs and tissue. No organ damage, thankfully, and no other broken bones. I did treat some minor cuts and scrapes everywhere, and a nasty wound to your head though. All in all, I think you endured it quite well."

He replaced the sheet and pulled a cart closer to Danse's bed.

"Elder Maxson thought you might like to have this. He said that he doesn't see how it can be repaired, but maybe there are some parts you can salvage for a new one."

Danse looked over after the man went back to his counter, and his eyes skipped over the objects on the cart, his throat immediately constricting as he realized what they were.

Charred, broken, bent and twisted components of Civil Liberty. Arthur must have gone out to Camp Sunshine after Danse's rescue and found them.

He reached over and ran his hand across the pieces, shifting them over the metal surface.

Broken, just like his body, but impossible to repair, like his relationship with Olivia.

Lily had told him a while before the day Sunshine was attacked that she'd asked Worly and Olivia to take some people to Far Harbor. In Danse's mind, if Olivia had still loved him and wanted to be with him, she wouldn't have gone.

Could he really blame her for wanting to get away from him? After all, he'd done nothing but push her away every time something went wrong.

He was grateful to Arthur for bringing the parts of his past back to him, but he needed to face the facts. He'd squandered every chance he'd had at making a life with Olivia. And for what? To torture himself with the reality of his identity, when no one but him seemed to care about what it might mean?

Olivia hadn't cared. She'd never looked at him with anything less than respect and encouragement to change, and later with intimate desire. Lily hadn't cared. She'd risked her life and her membership in the Brotherhood to save his life. Arthur hadn't cared. Not really. He'd been forced to pretend otherwise, but the second he felt that he could make a change, he'd done so. True, those changes didn't all result from Arthur's belief about Danse, but it still counted. The settlers hadn't cared. At least, not after he had proven himself to them.

Danse sighed and he started to put his hand back in his lap when something caught his eye, and he picked it up to examine it more closely.

One of the inner housing washers of the crystal array. It was still as clean as if it were brand new, shining, dark grey metal gleaming in the low lights of the Med Bay. He poked his finger through the open center and twisted it around the pad of skin. It was nearly big enough to be a ring, if the sides were flattened down to the inner diameter. It wasn't quite big enough for him, but it would fit someone else's finger. Maybe a female. Like Olivia.

He’d been sitting there for quite a while when a new thought came to him then and he looked up at Cade. He tested his voice by clearing his throat, and when he was satisfied it would work, he said, "Knight-Captain, I was wondering if you could run a test for me."  
  
  
  
  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first intended to write a big battle scene before this stage, but I'm not sure if the story really needs it. At this point, I think people won't care one way or the other. If you really want one, let me know and I'll see what I can do, otherwise I'm leaving it to imagination.


	38. Blood of My Blood

 

The Commonwealth Minutemen, with the aid of the Brotherhood of Steel, had finally conquered their enemies. Well, the big ones, at any rate. And those that remained had either scattered, or had gone into hiding. For the past many months there had been few problems with the raider gangs that remained, and the world was turning right side up again.

It had taken much longer than he'd hoped for his serious injuries to heal. His broken leg had needed three surgeries by Knight-Captain Cade - with time to rest between each - and several of his internal wounds required natural healing, as Stimpaks could only do so much.

As his body recovered, Danse had taken the opportunity to have Cade run more tests on him. One, so they could learn more about synths, and two... Well, he needed to know if it was possible that he could have fathered a child, didn't he?

Every nerve in Danse's body was tingling with anxious anticipation as he stepped onto the Far Harbor dock and looked around.

Now, with things running smoothly at the Castle, the serious danger past, and knowing the truth, Danse had come with Lily to bring Felix home, with the intention of falling to his knees at Olivia's feet while he was here, and begging her to take him back.

Unless of course, she'd found someone else... Or most likely, even if she had.

She'd been in Far Harbor for nearly a year and a half at this point, and he wouldn't be surprised if she'd attracted a few admirers. And why wouldn't she take up a relationship with someone? After all, he'd turned his back on her when he refused to even consider that she might have been telling the truth about the circumstances of her pregnancy.

He could have asked her to give him time to accept the baby - no matter whose it was -  thereby leaving the door open for their relationship; by saying he would think about it. But no. No, he'd been a glutton for self pity, choosing to wrap himself in the excuse of his true identity; self-absorbed and more comfortable being despondent over his perceived flaws than he was willing to consider that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the scientific monstrosity he'd believed synths to be. Instead of accepting the gift of a family that Olivia was offering him - whether the child was his or not - he'd just stood up and walked away like a fool. 

It hadn't been the first time, but he was absolutely hell bent on making certain it would be the last. He had tried living his life without her, and he was utterly miserable every damn minute of it. And after nearly dying with all that on his conscience, he decided enough was enough.

"Danse?" Lily called for him from the deck of the boat, and he stretched his arm back to take her hand while she carefully maneuvered her legs over the side. Her balance these days was a little unreliable.

When she had her footing, he picked up their bags and followed her up the stairs to the main level, and he could feel many sets of eyes turn in their direction as they appeared. An older woman passing by slowed to greet Lily, and offered a smile.

"Howdy there, Main-landers. I'm Cassie Dalton."

Lily shook her hand and flashed that charismatic grin of hers. "I believe we met once before. Lily Ribisi."

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Came here looking for a girl, right?"

Lily chuckled. "Right. And now I'm looking for another one. Olivia Grimaldi. She'd have kids with her."

Cassie nodded. "Grimaldi, yeah, I know her. In fact, she did me a few favors and I gave her my family's old farm up on the north end of the island."

"Really? How long would it take to get there?" Lily asked excitedly.

"Well now, a lady oughtn't go rambling around in the dark. Better you catch a good nights' sleep and I'll have someone meet up with you in the morning to show you the way."

It was getting dark, though Danse would have preferred to just head out. He didn't want to lose another precious second by being apart from the woman he loved, but Lily said, "That would be marvelous, Thank you," and he sighed in defeat.

"Beds are at Mitch's place," Cassie pointed in the direction of a building with a badly hand-painted wooden sign above the door and another out front.

Lily led the way to The Last Plank, and Danse trailed in after her, his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark inside, despite the smoky atmosphere. They paid for rooms and sat down for a meal, chatting quietly for a while. Then Lily yawned and they turned in for the night.

The next morning they were up before the sun, packed and waiting by the main gate for whoever was to take them out to the old Dalton Farm. They didn't have to wait long. Cassie showed up with a grumbling older man carrying a lever action rifle - similar to the one Olivia used to carry when he'd first met her, Danse noticed - and introduced him as Longfellow.

The old man didn't talk much as he led them along the road. He warned them about mirelurks and wolves, and even carped about something called an Angler, but even Lily's immense charisma couldn't seem to get his dour disposition to brighten up.

They weren't too far away from their destination when Longfellow pointed out as much, and Danse promptly turned restless. Lily chuckled at his twitchy excitement and told him to go on ahead.

"Are you sure?" he prompted. "I can stay with you, if you think you'll need me."

"No, we're nearly there; I'll be fine. Go. Go!" she laughed and shooed him off.

He gave an uneasy grin and took off at a moderate jog, their packs bouncing against his back. He didn't even care that something solid was hammering into his shoulder-blade and would likely leave a bruise, he just wanted to see Olivia as soon as possible.

He could see the road curving around and ending at a large pier, and he turned west, following a little trail towards a rather newly constructed house up on the ridge. A little farm plot with several kinds of produce and some razorgrain occupied the area nearest the road, and he skirted around it and headed for a narrow path. A few steps onto it and his ears caught the sound of laughter as the soft wind brought it inland, and he crested the little ridge to see a woman down by the shore, her pant legs rolled above her calves and her bare feet splashing in the blue-green water.

Danse drank in the sight of her, noting that she'd let her wavy brown hair grow longer again, and had it pulled back in a thick, messy bun, tendrils flipping around her face in the cool breeze.

She laughed again and twirled around, and his breath hitched when he caught sight of the bundle in her arms. A child, giggling with glee at the sprinkles of water Olivia kicked up over them, with warm black hair gleaming in the rays of the sun. Not blond hair, nor brown, nor even the carrot-red that Deacon had finally revealed his to be, and a smile teased Danse's lips as he took slow steps towards the playing pair, his eyes glued to their forms and his heart racing with nervous excitement.

Olivia must have felt a presence behind them, for he saw her body tense just before she turned in his direction and his heart lurched when their eyes met.

Would she scream at him and tell him to go? Would she at least let him meet his child before she made him leave?

The child's head turned to see what Olivia was looking at, and Danse watched a little arm raise and point at him as he neared. He heard the boy gurgle an incoherent noise and then their eyes locked. The child's face brightened and smiled at him, and Danse felt a rush of emotions too powerful to dissect in the moment.

The boys bright eyes watched him with fierce curiosity, and as he looked closer, Danse noticed his eyes - not brown, not green, but a combination of the two, in random mix - part Olivia, part himself - and it took his breath away; The notion that he and Olivia had created this little person in a spontaneous act of lust and love and need...it was daunting, and beautiful.

"Duduh," the child cooed at him and reached out in his direction.

He blinked in hopeful understanding and looked to Olivia for help. Was it okay to accept the child? Would she rather he avoid contact? But Olivia's eyes were sparkling as she watched him, and she held the babe out closer to him.

The bags were instantly dropped to his feet, forgotten, tears filling his eyes as he hurried to welcome the child into his arms. The boy reached out to him, his little hand grabbing for Danse's nose, and giggling, pressed his little palms to Danse's face. Danse began to shake with barely controlled happiness, and he closed his eyes and swallowed hard, forcing the tears not to fall as he hugged the child gently.

"What's his name?" he heard himself ask.

Olivia smiled at them. "This...is James Oliver Danse."

He nodded with immediate pride. It was a good, strong name for a boy, he thought.

"It's perfect," he smiled and chuckled when James pressed his wet mouth to Danse's chin and gurgled happily. He didn't want to break this joyful spell, but he had so many things he wanted to tell her, and he didn't want to be asked to go before he'd had the chance to get them out. "Can we sit somewhere?"

"Of course," she answered and picked up the packs from the ground. "Are you thirsty? I can get you something."

"Yes, please. Whatever you have, and some water for Lily. She's just a few minutes behind me."

"Lily came? I take it the Commonwealth is scum-free, then?"

"I don't think it will ever be completely free of the rabble, but there's certainly a lot less filth."

Danse walked behind her, his eyes flitting from one beautiful image to the other as he looked from one love of his life to the next. They stepped onto the small porch and she held the screen door open so he could step inside.

"Have a seat anywhere you like, just watch out for toys on the floor," she warned as she moved into the kitchen.

Danse chose the end of the cushiony sofa, soon having to put James down onto the blue rug when the child fussed after a toy that was out of his reach. Danse watched his son in silent wonder, the only clear thought was that the boy was perfect.

Olivia returned and handed him a glass of water. He took a few drinks and looked around, suddenly noticing the house was rather quiet.

"Felix is with you, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he's upstairs. I'll call him down in a minute," she replied with a gentle smile. "But first I'd like to know what took you so long to get here."

His pulse thudded in his throat. She didn't look angry, as he assumed she'd be. In fact, she just looked... Relieved?

"Olivia," he managed to whisper, "I'm so sorry I--"

"Better late than never," she interrupted with a wave.

He didn't agree. He'd missed so much, let fear rob him of this joy.

"I know you must--"

A noise behind them from the stairs made him turn, and he watched Felix step off the last section and come towards them carrying another child. A child with the same warm black hair as James, and when Felix handed her over to Olivia the little girl looked straight into Danse's eyes, and his widened in shock. The same mix of brown and green looked back at him.

"This is Emma Gabrielle," she said and kissed the little girl's cheek. "Emma, can you say hello to daddy?"

The little girl looked at him and grinned timidly before burying her face into her mother's shirt.

"She's a little shy," Felix explained.

Danse nodded and smiled. "That's all right. I'm just glad I got to meet her." He turned and looked back at the older boy, "Your mother is waddling her way up the hill. Would you mind seeing if she needs help?"

"Mom's here?" the boy echoed excitedly and took off out the door.

Danse turned back to Olivia and smiled. "James seemed to know who I am," he suddenly realized.

She pointed to the little table next to him and he looked over. A familiar photo was nestled in the protective confines of a small picture frame. He recognized it as the one that had graced his Brotherhood personnel file, taken mere days before his recon mission to the Commonwealth.

"Arthur gave it to me before I came here," she explained. "They've seen your face every day since they were born."

Danse was astounded that his friend would think enough of him to save that photograph and make a gesture like this, and that Olivia would care enough to make sure his children knew who he was.

"I'm such a fool, Olivia. I have no excuse for what I've done, for missing all of this. I--"

"If you're about to apologize again, don't," she cut in. "You've done enough of that to last a lifetime."

He closed his mouth and nodded sadly. She had every right to be angry and unwilling to hear him out. He didn't even deserve to be sitting here with them, and if she wanted him to go, he wouldn't argue. 

Suddenly her palm was pressing against the side of his face and she leaned closer. "Just kiss me already, and tell me that was the last time you'll walk away."

The tears he'd been holding back rolled down his cheeks in relief and reverence, and he nodded as he leaned in to press his lips to hers in a long, tender kiss.

"I swear it will never happen again."  
  
  
 


	39. That Someone Else Is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.....
> 
>  
> 
> for now.

 

Danse stood in the doorway of the twins' room watching them sleep, filled with pride. He'd spent all afternoon and evening with them, watching them play, helping them eat their snacks and then dinner, changing them, and holding them when they took turns falling asleep in his arms. It was still all so overwhelming, but wonderfully so.

He'd hoped for one child, and finding out he had two? He'd never dreamed of it, and the surprise was the best present he'd ever received - not counting Olivia, of course. Without her, and her love for him, this would never have happened.

God, he was a lucky man.

No, not lucky. _Blessed._

It didn't even matter to him anymore how he'd come to exist. The fact was, scientists had created him, and people had created them, and their parents before, and on and on. Whether it was a mistake of modern technology, or whether it was a scientific miracle designed by fate, Danse was there, he was alive, and he was loved. Was any of the rest even important?

James burbled in his sleep and Danse tiptoed to the edge of the crib. The boy's tiny hand lay palm up next to his face and Danse reached down to touch it, running his rough finger across it in a featherlight stroke. James curled his little fingers around his fingertip and Danse sobbed silently in joy.

He'd nearly missed this. Between his stupidity at rejecting Olivia the year before, and his recent capture, he had almost never met this pair of amazing children.

 _His_ children.

Olivia crept into the room and checked on Emma before coming to stand just behind his arm. She leaned her chin against the back of his outer shoulder and smiled. "Come on, Danse. You can watch them in the morning and clean up their cereal from all over the table."

His lips pulled into a grin. "I'd love to," he whispered.

Olivia gently tugged his arm and he slipped his finger from James' grasp, casting one last glance at Emma as he stepped out of their room and pulled the door nearly shut.

He let Olivia lead him down the hallway a few feet into another room, and as his eyes glanced around the dimly lit interior he heard the door click closed behind him. His inspection of the room didn't last, for his attention was soon turned to the woman in front of him as she pushed into him, her hands flitting over his abdomen and up his chest as she rose up on the balls of her feet to press her mouth to his. He responded instantly, gripping her waist and letting her tongue invade his mouth in an exquisite assault.

Her deft hands were soon removing his shirt and skimming his flesh, heating it with friction and the thrill of arousal. He worked at the buttons of her shirt, but his fingers and his brain were no longer working in patience, and he silently cursed the annoying object and ripped the barrier apart to reach her skin.

She gasped at the shocking behavior, but when she looked up at him her eyes darkened with need and she kissed him passionately, his hands burying themselves in her loosened hair. It didn't take long before he was helping her wiggle out of her jeans, and he ran his palms over her rear, down and back up her thighs, her silky skin heaven in his hands.

"My God, you're beautiful." He hoped his words were enough to convey just how much he adored her, because he'd never been good at expressing himself with language.

"I need you, Gabriel."

Her soft breath was warm across the skin of his chest as she kissed against taut muscles there, and he let out a heady sigh, dropping a hand to her panties. He cupped his fingers against the moist fabric at her crotch as his other hand pulled her mouth closer, hard against his lips, his tongue starving for attention. She moaned into his mouth and he moved to grip her body, turning them around so that he was pressing her up against the door.

"I've missed you so much," he said, his rough palms skimming her breasts through her bra.

Olivia's hands ran over his shoulders and her nails bit into his skin when his teeth found a sensitive spot on her neck, and he pushed his hand south, dipping past the band of her underwear to stroke the line of her folds. His pulse ticked higher at the wetness he found there, and he groaned into the crook of her neck when her hands slipped to his ass and gave both cheeks a tight squeeze.

"I've missed you, too," she breathed huskily. "Let me show you how much."

Her palms pressed his chest, and he stepped away so she could move, watching with hungry eyes as she popped open the fastening of his pants and slid two layers of material down his legs. She moved slowly, running her hands over his tight calves and across the flesh of his thighs and up his hips, before guiding him away from the door and further into the room.

"Sit here, please," she said, encouraging him with a little push down onto the ottoman that graced a spot at the foot of her bed.

He practically fell back onto it in his eagerness to do as she wanted, and she laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight as she removed the last of her garments. He looked up at her as she moved over him to straddle his thighs, and he couldn't keep his hands off her. 

"You certainly know how to greet a man," he said truthfully.

"You have a year and half of making up to do," she said as she teased his rock hard shaft with a brush of her fingers, making him suck in a deep breath in anticipation. "And I'm tired of waiting."

He could only nod and squeeze his eyes shut as she wrapped her hand around him and guided him to her core. As she sank onto his cock, a long, low growl escaped his throat. His hands whipped up to her hips as he went rigid beneath her at the same moment she dipped her head to nuzzle his ear and rub against the scruff of his face, sending tingles of pleasure across his skin.

"Oh, fucking he--," he called out, but Olivia buried the rest of it with her hot mouth.

His grip tightened on her hips as she began to move faster, breathing in deeply through his nose as the tension began to build in him already, and he groaned with pleasure.   

Their kiss broke off as she used his shoulders for leverage and her moan had him wishing she'd go faster.

"Jesus, Gabriel," she hissed, "You feel so fucking incredible."

Hearing his name on her lips always turned his insides to mush, and he found himself thrusting up into her each time she came down on him. His muscles were straining now, sweat forming in droplets all over his body. He watched as Olivia's mouth parted and her top teeth dug into her lower lip as she rocked against him.

With each thrust she began to whimper louder, and his pulse tripled when she dropped her hand between them to rub herself. He'd never seen anything quite so arousing as Olivia working her clit, and all he wanted to do was make her scream in satisfaction.

They were both breathing harder and faster, and soon her whimpers had turned into loud pleas as she raced for release. Danse leaned closer to her chest, catching a pert nipple in his mouth and striking it with his tongue over and over. He suckled it, suddenly tasting warm, sweet liquid flowing across his tongue. It startled him, but he didn't stop.   

Olivia's cries had grown higher and higher until he knew she was about to peak, and he refused to give up.

He was burning from head to toe now, his body straining towards climax. He nuzzled into her neck, nipping at her skin with his teeth, and pulling her harder into his hips with every thrust.

"Oh God, Gabriel," he heard Olivia weep, "Please....just...ah..."

Seconds later he felt her cunt clutch his shaft, making him abruptly cry out as their orgasms crashed over them, his crippling his movements and paralyzing him as she rocked against him a few more times before collapsing over his shoulder.

Minutes passed as their breathing returned to normal and his muscles loosened back into his control, and Danse wrapped his arms around her back and bottom for support. Scooting to the edge of the seat he stood up, walked to the bed and he eased them onto it, his cock still buried inside her, half hard. He'd been without her far too long to be finished after just one exploit. On the contrary, they had all night, and he planned to take advantage of as much of it as he could handle.

With his arms at each side of her head and his hands caressing her skin and pushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her. Gently at first, placing loving pecks across her lips, over her nose and down her chin to her neck. She sighed happily, rubbing her hands over his body everywhere she could reach. It didn't take long until he had her whimpering again, and with every long and deliberate stroke, he took them to the brink once more, vowing that every day for the rest of his life he would make certain Olivia knew his heart belonged to her.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

                        ~ just weeks after returning from their short trip to Far Harbor~  
  
  
Arthur was returning to the Capital Wasteland to check on things there. And since he was going to be gone a while, Lily, Felix, and baby Noah would be going as well. With Lily going MIA, Danse and Preston would be handling things at the Castle until her return, but they all agreed to one last celebration before the big trip.

The church at Jamaica Plain was packed with people on both sides of the aisles, the pews filled to spilling over with friends, and co-workers; Their family. Pastor Clements had come from Diamond City to officiate, and the two couples stood at the front of the church - Danse and Olivia on the left, and Arthur and Lily on the right - with Pastor Clements tucked in between, grinning like a kid with a candy cane as he cleared his throat to get everyone's attention.

"Here, here! Let's begin!" he shouted, and everyone hushed. He smiled and fiddled with the collar at his neck as he cleared his throat to speak. "As you know, we've all gathered here today to watch these folks join together in matrimony. Now usually I say a few words and then pronounce it official, but this time they've decided to choose their own words. So..." he looked at Arthur and motioned to him, "Go ahead and start, Son."

Arthur was beaming as he looked at his bride, and the happiness that poured from him was contagious. He took her hands in his and his voice floated out across the building, confident, rich and cheerful.

"I, Arthur Lucas Maxson, choose you, my beloved Lily, to be my wife. To cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I enter this marriage not to be your master, but to be your steadfast companion; to carry you when you cannot walk, and dance with you in times of joy. I will laugh with you and wipe away your tears when you cry, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live. With this ring, as a symbol of my love, I pledge myself to you, in sickness and in health, from now and forever."

He took a moment to slip a gold band over her finger, as Lily smiled radiantly before settling to speak. 

"Where there has been cold, you have brought warmth; where there was darkness, you have brought light. I, Liliana Alessa Ribisi, choose you, Arthur, to be my beloved husband. I will love and comfort you, hold you close and prize you above all others.  I will walk at your side on whatever path life takes us, hand in hand, heart with heart, loving you in good times and bad, forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live. With this ring, as a symbol of my love, I pledge myself to you, in sickness and in health, from now and forever."

Pastor Clements handed her a ring, which she pushed onto Arthur's finger, and the clergyman gave them a moment to finish before he turned to Danse and motioned him to proceed.

Danse's face colored, but it was more from excitement than from the embarrassment of being watched by a hundred guests. 

"Olivia..." he started and choked, then smiled shyly, swallowing and chuckling nervously before he continued, "The day I met you my life changed forever. You challenged me, tested me, and pushed me to be a better man, not because of our differences, but because you believed in me. Because of you, I see things with new eyes and a new heart. From this day forward, I pledge my life and love to you. I vow to respect you and listen to you, even when I don't understand. I promise to help you when you need me, to step aside when you don't, and to catch you if you should fall. I will share your dreams and your burdens, in good times and bad, being faithful to you in heart, mind and body, giving you the best of myself every day of my life, until death parts us."

Danse slid a dark-colored band of scarred metal onto Olivia's finger and lifted her knuckles to his lips in a sweet kiss.

Olivia blushed and smiled blissfully, stepping closer to him when he lowered her hand.

"Gabriel, from this day on I promise to stand at your side as your faithful wife, in trust and love; to speak to you with encouragement and respect. I promise to never take you for granted; to be your most trusted confidant and closest ally; to laugh with you and cry with you; to sleep in your arms and embrace you when you reach for me. Everything that I am, and everything that I have is yours, from this moment on, until death parts us."

Clements passed her a thick gold band and watched as she slipped it over Danse's finger, then the older man said in a loud voice, "Witnessed this day, in front of family, friends and neighbors, I declare these couples to be wed! Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Maxson, and Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Danse. May they live long and prosperous lives!"

The crowd clapped, whistled and cheered for the newlyweds, and called for the husbands to kiss their new wives. Arthur laughed and dramatically tipped Lily into his arms, making a grand show of it, while Danse took a slightly more subdued route and just buried his lover in his arms and kissed her breathless.  
  
  
  
  
                                                                                                                               


End file.
